


By Your Hand

by ShaeraHaek



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Baby!Smaug, Gen, I hope I can finish this one, Inspired by Dragonheart, Inspired by How to Train Your Dragon, M/M, NOT A MPREG, Owls, Slow Burn, and Eragon maybe, but just a little bit, but not fem version, coz I suck, mama!Bilbo, plot twist: the Arkenstone isn´t just a jewel anymore, slooooow update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-01-04 23:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 75,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaeraHaek/pseuds/ShaeraHaek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the Arkenstone wasn´t just a pretty shiny jewel?<br/>HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Just a Stone

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the result of my many baby!dragon feels. There is some art I drew some while ago and people seemd to like it, so yeah, why not. Art can be found here: http://shaerahaek.tumblr.com/tagged/art/
> 
> Coments are welcome.
> 
> *My thanks to Zayroen, who corrected all my mistakes and inspired me to write this*  
> **Beware minor DoS spoilers**

Slumped against a cold stony pillar, Bilbo watched his friends rake through the enormous hoard of gold with a heavy heart.

The dragon was dead, the Lonely Mountain was reclaimed and the homeless blacksmith became a king once more. A very ignorant, gold-mad and cold-hearted king.

 Smaug´s venomous words echoed in Bilbo´s head. It was just as the drake said but Bilbo was stupid enough not to believe him. He thought Thorin´s heart was stronger and his mind wiser but his hopes died away when he felt the edge of Thorin´s blade touch his chest.  He always thought the dwarves were the least of his worries. He could handle an occasional brawl or an exchange of views and they weren´t really all that scary when one got to know them.

And after a while, he felt safe amongst them.

He would even go so far as to say that he felt the safest by Thorin´s side.

The irony of that.   

Now they were only shadows of their former selves - greedy shells, hungry for gold and riches. Bilbo continued watching them from shadows, not daring to step closer. The Arkenstone grew heavier in his pocket with Thorin´s every mad shout and order to find it.

The mountain was suddenly too cold and the jewel in his pocket too hot.

“Fools!” Bilbo whispered from where he sat, “each and every one of you.”

Cursing under his breath, Bilbo stood up and walked outside into the night. A chilly gush of wind jerked him out of his thoughts. He gazed around. The fires of Lake-Town were extinguished but from what Bilbo could see, they didn´t manage to save much of it.

He'd watched it turn to a small hell when Smaug descended upon it and he could still feel the cold fingers of horror claw at his heart.  Taking few big breaths to calm himself down he turned his attention to the two camps that made themselves at home under the gates of Erebor.

The ravens came after Smaug´s fall, declaring Thorin a rightful king. But the joy did not last long. Right after that, another raven came flying from south, bringing tidings about an army of orcs marching on to the Lonely Mountain.

The Elves and the Men came offering their help, asking a fair share of the gold in order to sustain their people and repair the damages.

But Thorin was already mad, bewitched by the gold and gave none of it away.

Bilbo was desperate. While Thorin showered his royal ass in the riches of the mountain, armies came knocking on his front door. Bilbo didn´t want his friends to die.  He had a plan and he would carry it out even if it meant that Thorin would hate him until the end of the World.

He took the Arkenstone out of his pocket, regarding it with disdain. But he couldn’t help but to admire it´s radiance and beauty. A sudden wave of anger came over him and the hateful words echoed in his mind once more.

_...would corrupt his heart...._

_...drive him mad..._

_...destroy him...._

“Fools,” he said silently. “STUBBORN AND GREEDY FOOLS!”

And with an anxious cry he swung the stone, his every fiber yelling at him to get rid of the cursed jewel.

And he would have done it, if it wasn’t for the stone´s slight tremble. Bilbo´s body went rigid while his mind was trying to digest what just happened.

He lowered his hand, eyeing the Arkenstone suspiciously.

“Hello?” He said, immediately kicking himself mentally. As if a stone could give him an answer. But he felt something.

He put it to his ear and listened. Nothing.

“Oh, look at me,” Bilbo sighed, “now I am getting crazy.”  He shrugged and as he was putting the jewel back into his pocket it trembled again.

Bilbo cupped the big shiny stone and huffed in exasperation. “What are you doing?” He asked, no longer caring if he sounded like an idiot. “Are you trembling in fright? Are you afraid I would destroy you?” The Arkenstone was, however, dead still again, refusing to communicate.

“Hey! Don´t you ignore me now!” He poked the rock, “wake up!”

And that´s when the stone suddenly jumped in his hands, startling the poor hobbit. Bilbo just barely managed to get a hold of the Arkenstone before it fell to the ground.

“Are you mad? I didn´t mean it with the breaking!” Bilbo squeaked. As he was feeling the surface of the stone for damage he froze once again. Bilbo could swear that his heart left out more than just one beat when he felt the crack on the stone.

“Why...” Bilbo whined as he turned the Jewel over to inspect the crack. Just brilliant. He managed to break the one thing Thorin longed for at most.

But his unhappy musing was cut short when the Arkenstone shook once more. Bilbo felt the hot tears in his eyes.

“No, no, no...!” He chanted silently caressing the stone as if it would stop it from breaking, when the upper half of the jewel shattered entirely.

Bilbo stared at the broken jewel with his mouth open and eyes  wide as dinner plates. Not even in his wildest dreams could he imagine this! That the King´s Jewel wasn´t a jewel at all!

A faint pule came out of the rock – no! Egg!

First came out a little red tail, then a tiny little paw and finally a golden-red head.

An equally faint “Ah!” was all Bilbo could muster.

The little creature squirmed a little and struck his head out to get a better view. Little golden eyes landed on Bilbo and the hobbit felt a mix of dread, awe and comprehension.

Smaug has laid an egg – or better, he made the Arkenstone into an egg! But was that even possible? Apparently yes, since he was holding a living baby dragon in his hands.

The panic attack that was creeping onto Bilbo was interrupted by a high pitched... bark? Do dragons even bark? Whatever sound just came out of the tiny dragon baby was enough to make Bilbo coo at it.

“Hello little one.” He said, still not moving but relaxing a little bit. The dragon somehow made him feel at ease.  Very familiar golden eyes met Bilbo´s but he didn´t feel any fright. The baby climbed out of the shiny shell onto the hobbit´s arms and started scratching at his sleeve. Bilbo´s upper half of the body was frozen but he managed to turn around and kneel. The miniature Smaug climbed down on the cold stone floor and looked around sniffing but it eventually got back to scratching whatever Bilbo was wearing.

Watching the dragon trying to tear his trousers off, he noticed several things. Like the missing wings and no pointy horns. Or deadly claws for that matter, although the tiny claws the baby possessed were sharp enough to go through the fabric of his trousers.

“Are you trying to strip me, little Smaug?” He chuckled when the dragon stopped it´ s scratching and looked at Bilbo questionably.

“What are you—“

“Bilbo!”

Bilbo spun around looking at Thorin, who just crossed the threshold of the gate.

“What are you doing, burglar? Why are you not searching for the—“ Thorin said but stopped himself and Bilbo could feel the tension and anger radiating from the king. It took him a second to understand why.

He followed Thorin´s gaze, which was fixed on the shards of the Arkenston he was still holding.

The murderous fury that Bilbo found in the dwarf´s eyes was like a blow to his gut. He abruptly stood up as Thorin took the first step towards him.

“You miserable wretch!” The king cursed. “What have you done!”

“N-no, Thorin!” Bilbo stammered taking a step back, trying to push the baby away with his foot.

“You broke it! The Arkenstone!  You broke the most valuable jewel in all Middle-Earth!” Thorin hissed through clenched teeth. “You—“

He was interrupted by a quiet growl. Thorin stood frozen in front of Bilbo, staring at the little growling creature the hobbit was trying to shield from him.

“TRAITOR!” Thorin howled and threw himself at the dragon. Bilbo immediately pushed him aside and gripped the front of the dwarf´s tunic.

“Thorin listen to me! Stop!” Bilbo shouted but Thorin´s mind was clouded and poisoned and he couldn´t hear Bilbo´s pleading voice anymore.

“YOU MISERABLE HOBBIT! TRAITOR! HOW COULD YOU!”

The force of Thorin´s hand hitting Bilbo´s face spun him around and as he fell to the ground a sharp pain jerked through his torso.

He didn´t even notice when the other dwarves came, or their cries and attempts to calm Thorin´s temper down and hold him back, or the king´s angry yells anymore.

The only thing he heard was the lazy beat of his heart and the grievous cry of the tiny dragon. Nestling the unhappy dragon to his chest, he forced himself to stand up and tumbled down the stairs.

***

Last thing he remembered was how dull and unfamiliar everything was. Everything, except the crying, now crimson-red dragon, whimpering in his arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anybody is questioning the egg part, I have an answer: "Magic, bitches!" Those who read The Silmarillion know that dragons are capable of some hard-core magic stuff, I just enhanced the idea a little bit. So yeah, Smaug turned the jewel into an egg.... OUT OF SPITE! Because why not.  
> Also, I hope I can finish this during the Christmas Holidays.  
> Tell me what you think and if it´s worth continuing.


	2. Too Late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you guys like totally blew me away with all the love! I mean, what the hell? I never thought this would get more than 35 kudos... And look at it now. Anyway, thank you very, very much! I am incredibly happy that you like the beginning (I expect the bitching starts after the third chapter, but whatever) This many kudos make the story worth writing! 
> 
> Also, I had a little panic attack few days earlier, because I woke up at 4 a.m. realizing that I didn´t tag the slow burn and more.
> 
> A little warning: There is going to be Bagginshield (only not right away), the story is totally AU (my story, my rules), I like Dragonheart (no splitting hearts tho) and beware my sucky sense of directions. More warnings later. 
> 
> **My thanks belongs to Zayroen, who keeps putting up with my bullshit and corrects all errors**

Bilbo woke up to a stinging pain in his hand. It took him some time to adjust to the dulled world around him and to actually process where he was and what was happening. His body felt like lead and his head felt like somebody has repeatedly thrown him against a wall. Groaning in pain, he looked down at his left hand. Only after several minutes of staring his brain finally processed that the baby dragon was clawing at his hand and biting his finger.

Bilbo raised the violated hand in front of his face and stared at the bite marks and bloody scratches.

“Weird...” Bilbo mumbled. Only after he registered yet another bout of pain coming from his thigh, he tore his eyes from his bloodied hand.

The tiny crimson dragon was back at clawing at his leg but this time with more urgency. The baby whined and growled and scratched and Bilbo only then realized that the world was too dull and way too quiet. His eyes fell on his hand again.

“Oh, right,” he sighed, “the ring.” Bilbo pulled the ring off his finger and as everything returned to normal, the alien presence in his head relaxed a bit. He glanced at the dragon again. It had just climbed into his lap, coiled itself into a ball and laid his head on Bilbo´s belly. Finally the baby looked up and the hobbit felt relief and happiness.

The dragon huffed tiredly as Bilbo caressed its head.

“Thank you for reminding me.” He said as he turned the dragon on his back and scratched its belly, which made the creature purr and squirm in delight.

The hobbit kept playing with the dragon till it raised his head and licked his shirt.

Looking at himself properly, Bilbo noticed that he was covered in drying blood. Panic seized and as he was opening his shirt the dragon jumped off his lap.

“What...?” He choked up a cry.  

Right over his left breast, there was a thick, angry red scar. Drawing deep breaths, he carefully laid a hand over it.

_Calm down, calm down, calm down..._ he chanted in his head while pulling at his hair. An involuntary mewl escaped from his throat and the tears he was holding back the entire time finally spilt out of his eyes.

“What happened?!” He cried angrily, squeezing his eyes close. All at once he stopped, looking around wildly.

“Thorin! The Arkenstone!” He breathed out.

“Where—“ his voice died away when he felt the nudge in his left thigh. The baby dragon squirmed and chafed on his thigh before it craned it´s neck and laid it on Bilbo´s leg, offering a sharp flat copper red object it held in its mouth.  

Bilbo slowly took it with a shaky hand and rubbed it carefully with his finger. His breath hitched and he felt his heart fell into is stomach.

“A-ah,” he sighed shakily, staring at the object, “it was an accident, r-right?” He whispered as the memories came back.

_He tumbled down the stairs, putting the ring hastily on, the shouts of others echoed in his head for what seemed like an eternity. He hid in a large crack under the wall, holding the dragon on his right shoulder with one hand while he gripped the shard in his chest with the other and pulled. The excruciating pain knocked the wind out of his lungs and left him blind for several moments. Next thing he remembered was the stench blood and a golden light that slowly died away, leaving everything drowned in darkness._

Each memory was a painful stab in his heart. He shifted his gaze on the sadly purring dragon. “You healed me...” Bilbo whispered as he let the sharp shard of the Arkenstone drop on the ground.

“He didn´t mean to, right?” He said but with a more grave voice. The crimson wyrm sensed the change of attitude and eyed the hobbit in confusion.

Bilbo petted the miniature dragon, smiling at it lovingly. “Looks like we´re on our own then.” He said calmly, blinking the remaining tears away.

“Now what am I going to call you, little guy?” He asked, scratching the dragon´s chubby belly.

“You look like your daddy... mommy, whichever he was...Smaug.” Bilbo mused, picking up the dragon, holding it at arm´s length. It only tilted it´s head in question.

“Smaug.” Bilbo pronounced slowly, noticing how the dragon´s tail swished from side to side happily. He repeated the name and the dragon emitted a tiny squeaky roar that made Bilbo giggle in amusement.  

“Guess we have a name. Although it still kind of scares me.” Bilbo hummed in thought. “Smaug.”

“Mau!” The dragon echoed suddenly. The hobbit stared at it for a good while before repeating his name again.

“Maau!” Smaug piped up, tilting his head again and then proceeded to repeat the syllable over and over again, swishing his tale from side to side.

***

Bilbo put the tiny Smaug on the ground and while it babbled on running in circles, he carefully examined the ambient. He wanted to look around properly but his body was too weak and his head spun every time he stood up. After the fifth attempt of maintaining his balance and failing he gave up and begrudgingly admitted that he won´t be going anywhere unless he crawled on all four.

After few minutes of crawling accompanied by cursing under his breath, he finally reached the rocks. Using one of the boulders to support himself, he slowly stood up.  Noticing the sudden silence from behind, Bilbo looked back only to see Smaug sitting on the ground, watching him with interest.

“Not a sound.” He warned, shaking his finger at the dragon. Smaug´s only answer was a tilt of his little head.

Bilbo turned around and craned his neck to see over the rocks. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the sight.

The whole field from the mountain, almost to the edge to the lake was covered by blood and dead bodies.

Bilbo stared at the landscape in horror. His legs gave out under him and he found himself sitting on the ground with Smaug at his side, pawing his hip in worry.

The battle was over and Bilbo feared what he would find if he went to the camp.

***

It took him more than an hour to reach the confines of the battlefield. He stumbled every few steps, his mind was constantly being attacked by menacing whispers of the ring and his body felt weaker than before. Smaug was very displeased when Bilbo put the ring back on and he decided to express his discontent by biting his sleeve.

For another hour he struggled through the bloodied battlefield and heaps of dead bodies. The copper stench was almost unbearable and Bilbo had to take several stops to control his stomach.

The way to the southern part of the battlefield was slow but Bilbo kept walking.

The sun was starting to set by the time he reached the area with healing tents. The air was filled with pained moans and shrieks. Everything smelt like blood and death. Thankfully, the healers of all three races tended to everyone indiscriminately. Bilbo hurried past by a group of mourning men.

After few minutes of wandering – or better, stumbling – around, he found himself standing in front of a high red tent. That´s when he heard a very familiar voice shouting. Squirming in his arms, Smaug let out a low threatening growl.

“...I don´t care how but you WILL find him! Even if you have to search the whole Erebor and Dale! You WILL FIND HIM!”

Bilbo involuntarily took a step back and the dragon growled a little louder but stopped when the hobbit petted his head.

“Thorin, calm down!” Balin´s voice echoed from inside.

“I AM CALM!” Thorin shouted immediately back and a loud glass-shattering noise followed right after, accompanied by more shouting from different people. Bilbo was already turning around and running away, haunted by more angry roars from Thorn.

The hobbit covered his mouth with his palm to stop himself from crying out loud. Looks like he was worried for nothing. Thorin was very much alive and kicking, as well as thirsting for his blood.

Bilbo ran, still invisible, bumping into people who unknowingly shoved him back and forth until he stumbled and fell on the ground. Desperate and disoriented as he was, he scrambled back on his feet and ducked inside the closest tent.

There were five medics – four dwarves and one elf - standing around a cot, with their heads bowed low, discussing over something in hushed voices. With his hand still clapped over his mouth he backed into the darkest corner, bumping into another cot. He slowly turned his head, looking at the person lying on it.

His heart skipped a few beats at the sight.

The elven healer suddenly stepped back from the bed and tossed away a bloody rag, shaking his head.

“It is too late.” He pronounced sadly, looking away from the patient on the bed. “The damage is too severe, I cannot help him anymore.”

The dwarves muttered under their breaths, but stepped away as well, wiping their bloodied hands into the nearest pieces of cloth they could find.

“Someone has to tell the king.” One dwarf said, walking towards the entrance of the tent. The other dwarves murmured in agreement and followed him. The elf took a last look at the doomed patient and strode out too.

Bilbo then finally tore his terrified gaze from the dark haired dwarf lying in the cot next to him, to look at the other.

There, on his deathbed, laid the crown prince of Erebor – Fili, son of Dís. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how many of you lost interest already? Coments are welcome!


	3. Thank You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there again! Quick update coz I´m sick as shit and have nothing to do.... So here is a little Christmas present for you guys before I manage to cough up a lung... Hope you enjoy!
> 
> *Thank you Zayroen, for beta-ing*  
> **How the fuck do I delete the double end notes from the last chapter?!**

„Fíli...“ Bilbo gasped. His head spun at the sight of the young price. He was ashen pale, his torso wrapped up in bloody bandages and his breath shallow. Edging closer, Bilbo reached for the prince´s forehead, caressing it gently. An involuntary whine escaped his throat when he felt how hot the dwarf was.

Sighing shakily as Bilbo looked behind at the younger prince, whose head was wrapped and propped up by many pillows.

„Fíli, Kíli, what in the world have you two been doing?“ He whispered. Smaug shifted in his arm and stretched himself out, asking to be put down. Bilbo carefully laid him on the bed next to Fíli and the dragon sniffed on the dwarf´s hand.

Bilbo fell to his knees, holding the crown prince´s hand to his mouth, closing his eyes tightly to keep the tears from falling out. A tiny paw landed on his head and when he opened his eyes he saw Smaug tilting his head in confusion, trying to figure out what Bilbo is doing.

„Mau!“ He squeeled. Bilbo heard a soft gasp from behind and immediately spun around looking for its source. Kíli was still unconscious and there wasn´t anyone else inside. Was his imagination playing tricks on him? Propably.

„Shhh!“ Bilbo shushed the little dragon. „You´ve got to be quiet baby, or they´re going to find us.“ He petted him and then rested his forehead against the cot.

„It is all my fault! I am so sorry, Fíli, so sorry.“ He cired silently.

Smaug sat by Fíli´s side, not comprehending what was going on. He felt Bilbo´s sadness and guilt as well as the death that hung all around him and the person he was crying over.

Smaug shifted a little closer to Bilbo and patted his head. Bilbo looked up, his face all teary, sniffling pathetically.

“Oh baby. I wish I could do something! Anything!” He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “Can´t you heal him?” He asked as Smaug nuzzled his head to the hobbit´s teary cheek. “Can you save him like you saved me?” He whispered, scratching the dragon´s head.

Smaug whined, looking at Bilbo in question.

“You don´t understand, do you?” Bilbo glanced back at Fíli´s barely rising chest. Smaug repeated after him and stood with his front legs on the dwarf´s arm, craning his neck and then looking back at the hobbit. Bilbo carefully laid a hand on Fíli´s chest and then on his own chest.

“See?” Bilbo said, opening his shirt and revealing the thick scar on his breast. “Can you save him too?” 

“Mau!” Smaug piped up as he sniffed Bilbo´s wound. Turning to the dwarf, the dragon crawled over his arm and sniffed on Fíli´s chest. Bilbo caressed Fíli´s temples, wiping the sweat off, whispering apologies to his ear. Smaug looked unsure what to do. He squirmed and whined, crawling over Fíli´s arm several times and looking from the prince to the hobbit.

Sneezing suddenly, startling Bilbo out of his grieving, Smaug whined again and struggled to crawl on the dwarf´s chest.

“What are you—“ Bilbo trailed off as the dragon seated himself on Fíli´s chest, laying his head on his front legs, looking at Bilbo.  Smaug´s scales started to glow with warm golden light. Fíli stirred, moaning in pain and tossing his arms around. Bilbo immediately jumped to his feet and held his arms down. Smaug whined but he did not move away. The hobbit watched in wonder as the wounds on Fíli´s body closed up, he even heard as his broken bones snapped back in place.

The prince moaned louder and louder but his eyes did not open. After a good while he stilled, sighing loudly. Smaug, however did not move yet.

Suddenly there were noises outside the tent and the door flap opened abruptly, revealing the elven healer from before. He stood there unmoving, looking from the hobbit to the prince.

As quick as lightning he drew a dagger from his belt and pointed it at the startled hobbit.

“Don´t move.” The elf warned. Bilbo slowly withdrew his hands from the prince, straightening his back, looking at the healer in defiance. Looking back at the dwarf, the elf finally noticed the glowing dragon on his chest.

“What in the name of Eru— GUARDS!” The elf yelled, making a fatal mistake of looking away from the dragon.

Immediately grabbing the dragon, reaching for the ring and putting it on, Bilbo backed away from the cot into the darkest corner of the tent. Smaug yelped and scratched his arm but Bilbo held him tightly to his chest, gently squeezing his mouth shut.

The elf stepped inside, looking frantically around. Few other guards followed and paced around, one getting too close to Bilbo but never noticing him.

“The hobbit was here! Find him!” The elven healer ordered as he checked on Fíli. “Inform the others! Go!” They all ran out of the tent to sound the alarm and Bilbo used the moment to get out.

He was about to slip through the flap when he heard a silent raspy whisper.

A silent “Thank you” came from the far corner of the tent. Bilbo stood stone still by the door flap, holding his breath.

“Thank you for saving him.” Kíli rasped from his cot.

Stifling a sniff, Bilbo slipped out of the tent, not looking back.

* * *

 

In few minutes the entire camp was upturned. He barely made it out of the camp when he noticed that Smaug was still whining.

“What´s wrong baby?” He asked. Smaug was curled into a ball, whining and growling in pain. He  turned the dragon around rubbing his tummy and trying to calm him down. His body was still filled with adrenaline so he ran farther away from the camp into the nearby ruins of Dale. The city was empty except few forgotten corpses of orcs and wargs.

Bilbo found an old abandoned house that still had some roof left and looked quite stabile. He shed his coat and threw it into the corner. He sat carefully down, took off the ring and examined the dragon.

Smaug was still whimpering and shaking and Bilbo could do nothing but panic and pray for whatever was ailing his little baby dragon would go away soon.

He held the dragon to his chest, rocking back and forth and repeating silent chants till the moon rose and the sky glittered with silver stars.

Only then he noticed that the dragon was worryingly still in his arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clifhangers FTW.... If I survive the following next days I will write some more... Coments are welcome!


	4. Leaving my past behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally managed to finish this one (hopefully not very boring) chapter. I just wanted to move from Erebor as soon as possible to write a little more about Smaug. But first they have to get to the Shire.... which will take a couple of chapters (can´t make it that short). Enjoy the chapter! I hope you won´t be too disapointed...
> 
> *My thanks goes to my lovely beta - Zayroen - again*  
> **Happy New Year everyone!**

The panic Bilbo felt before was nothing compared to the one he felt now. He felt his heart hammer in his ears and every beat felt like a stab of a cold knife.

“Baby!” He breathed, turning the dragon around. His eyes were closed and his little body was completely limp in his arms.

“Wake up, baby!” Bilbo petted the dragon. He laid his ear against his tummy and immediately relaxed somewhat when he heard the faint quick heartbeat. “What is wrong with you, little one?”

Bilbo covered the dragon with his coat and lied next to him, stroking his little head. The sleep, however, didn’t come this night. He kept his eyes fixed on Smaug until the first rays of sun touched the land. And when Bilbo started to nod off, Smaug finally stirred from his deep sleep. The hobbit immediately forgot his tiredness and knelt beside him.

Smaug tiredly opened his golden eyes and looked him in the eye.

“Hello there, little one!” Bilbo breathed and sagged in relief, scratching the back of the dragon´s head.

“Mau!” Smaug piped up quietly from under the coat, squirming to get out. Bilbo helped him untangle himself from it and scooped him in his arms. He immediately felt a lot livelier and happier, which quite surprised him, considering the past few days. But however weird it felt, he couldn´t help but to brush it off and enjoy the moment.

They kept playing for a good hour or so and when Smaug finally tired of scratching Bilbo´s sleeve and chasing his tail, Bilbo decided it is time to move from the place.

The sun was already high in the sky. Bilbo put Smaug over his shoulder and made his best to explain why he put on the ring and how he couldn’t sneak around without it. Even though the dragon was not very pleased by the fact that he was going to put the ring on again, he did not bite and scratch like the last time.

They made their way down to the edge of the camp to gather some provisions and many other things he would need on the way back to the Shire.

He very much knew it was a mad idea – attempting to go back on his own just with a baby dragon that couldn´t do much except scratching and biting – but somewhere deep inside he felt that the journey will not be as dangerous as he thinks it is. He definitely couldn’t stay anywhere near because the people would most likely kill the baby dragon and himself the second they saw him. He just had to go back to the Shire. There was no other place in Middle-Earth where he could be safer for at least until the dragon grew up.

The stealing/borrowing of provisions took longer than Bilbo thought it would. He was finished long after the sun set and they had to go back to the abandoned house for the night.

Bilbo collapsed onto the newly-acquired blankets the second he took off the ring. Smaug immediately started sniffing at him and licking his face. Although Bilbo felt like somebody has beaten him the whole day, he stubbornly assured the dragon that he was alright until he stopped fussing over him and curled into a ball next to the hobbit´s head.

The night didn´t bring any dreams and Bilbo felt like he only blinked when he woke up in the morning. The following few days were the same: Bilbo and his dragon woke up, ate something, went to the base camp and “borrowed” provisions for their upcoming journey and returned back.

His little trips to the camp were mainly successful except maybe few times when he almost blew his cover when Smaug decided he had enough of the hiding and sneaking and just squirmed out of Bilbo´s backpack and tried to stroll around the camp. Thankfully, Bilbo was quick enough to get the dragon before anyone noticed.

After almost a week Bilbo had the feeling that he had enough food for at least till he reached Beorn´s. What he would do from that point, well, he decided he would cross the bridge when he got to it.

During the week he stayed in the ruins of Dale he noticed that the first ferries between Esgaroth and the eastern side of the lake arrived every morning and afternoon and departed by the sunset.

The stay in the ruins was riskier and riskier with every day for more and more people ventured thitherward, mapping the place and preparing for the rebuilding of Dale.

On the seventh day of his breakaway he made up his mind and finally packed all the things he gathered.

He put Smaug in the backpack so his head poked out, otherwise he was growling at Bilbo and nibbling at his fingers every time he tried to calm him down.

Bilbo managed to sneak into the evening ferry with no complication. He still had the ring on – to Smaug´s displeasure - and hid behind a couple of barrels covered by a large sheet. After what he thought was a half an hour, Smaug decided he was too bored and clawed his way out of the backpack. Bilbo immediately scooped him into his arms and shushed him before he could start yelling random syllables.

Bilbo decided they were safe enough in their hideout so he took the magic ring off and spent the rest of the voyage entertaining the dragon as silently as he could – finding out that the baby dragon loved when he scratched his belly and played with his paws.

The ferry reached Esgaroth in no time and Bilbo waited until all Men left and then sneaked out. The moon was already high but Bilbo would take no chances anyway, so he rather used the ring again – which resulted in Smaug growling the entire was through the city.

At some point, the dragon got bored again, squirmed out of the bag again and crawled on the top of Bilbo´s head, refusing to move away. Sighing, the hobbit left him there. At least he was silent and not moving, although Bilbo had to keep his head unmoving so Smaug wouldn´t slip down.

They only camped once – just before the dawn – to eat a little and then immediately continued towards Mirkwood.

One of the things Bilbo acquired in the camp was an elvish map of the forest. There were several secret paths but he chose the most southern one, believing that the path would be abandoned by this time.

On the way to the path Smaug decided he didn’t want to spend the time in the backpack or on Bilbo´s curls so he strolled by the hobbit´s side till they reached the forest. Bilbo found it incredibly amusing to watch the tiny chubby dragon walk next to him in the tall grass.

They reached the forest by the evening of that day. Bilbo felt chills ran down his back at the sight. He didn’t want to go through Mirkwood but as Gandalf said it would take months to go around by the northern path. Smaug sat next to him, looking at him expectantly.

“Ready for the big journey?” Bilbo asked, looking at his dragon fondly.

“Mau!” Smaug replayed, standing up and running into the woods.

The hobbit stood there unmoving with a heavy feeling in his heart. He couldn’t help but to feel sad. The thought of leaving the few friends he had behind filled him with an unpleasant sensation of guilt. He remembered how cold Fíli´s hand felt when he held it and how pale he was. Bilbo was incredibly worried about him but he believed that Smaug understood him and healed the young dwarf. He remembered Kíli´s last words to him – how he thanked him for (hopefully) saving his elder brother and he remembered Thorin. How furious he was and with what hate he looked at him when he saw the shattered Arkenstone.

But what he remembered most clearly, was how much his heart hurt after that – and it was not from the shard that pierced it.

Bilbo turned around, taking a last look at the mountain.

His hand reached for the wound on his chest absently. Somehow he knew that Smaug was watching him from afar, waiting for what he was going to do.

That´s when Bilbo felt the slight shift inside him. He looked back at the dragon who obediently sat by a tree.

“A new life.” Bilbo mumbled still looking at Smaug. The dragon stood up, his tale swishing impatiently. Bilbo smiled, walked to the dragon and lifted him up from the ground.

Bilbo kissed his head lovingly, looking back at the mountain. Smaug stood up in his arms and licked the hobbit´s cheek to return the gesture, purring affectionately.

“Starting a new life and leaving my past here, buried under the mountain.”

With these words, they entered the cursed forest, heading to the Shire. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, coments are welcome? Don´t kill me maybe? *shuffles awkwardly away to finish the next chapter*


	5. You Reek of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Early upload! Why? Because I am awesome!  
> Don´t get too used tho, the school is starting soon.... Still... Procrastination FTW! Why should I read American history when I can write fanfics....  
> Anyway, next chapter won´t come out this week, I am sorry, but I have to at least pretend I´m studying.
> 
> Bless you all for such support and love. You really make me happy. Enjoy baby!Dragon feels!
> 
> *My thanks to Zayroen*

Bilbo was fully expecting to fight his way through Mirkwood. He was clutching his sword from the moment they entered the cursed place, ready to defend himself and his little dragon at the first sign of hostile presence. He was, however, pleasantly surprised by the absence of the menacing eyes that watched him and the company every second when they journeyed the other way. First he thought it was only by the edge of the woods, but as they continued, he realised it was not the case.

After few days he finally began to relax somewhat. There were no webs, no spiders, no feeling of being watched, no uneasiness or anything else disturbing there. Of course he was suspicious, of course there was that little nagging in the back of his mind – telling him it wasn’t normal, not good, not _right_. He just couldn’t help to feel like everything is just the way it should be. And of course, he knew the source of that feeling.

Smaug.

Bilbo noticed the slight shifts in himself. With everyday that passed, he felt more and more close to the dragon. And it was not in friendship, or any other relationship they could have. It was a bond. It felt like a thug of his soul. He could feel when the dragon was happy, when he was annoyed, amused or afraid. It grew stronger and stronger with more time they spent together.

First he was a bit afraid. He was aware of the changes, and it scared him to know he probably wouldn’t be the same again. He constantly worried about how the others would react – would they reject him? Would they be angry? Upset?

However, over the time he slowly came to the realisation that he just stopped caring.

His little dragon was with him and that was all that mattered.

It was odd – who would have thought he would once father a dragon. Ridiculous, really. He was downright terrified when he met the original Smaug. His body was completely petrified and his mind blank with horror when he met the dragon face to face. Nothing in the world would have prepared him for the encounter with the giant wyrm.

The first thoughts of seeing the little dragon hatch from the Arkenstone also weren’t very pleasant. It stunned him, to see the little creature emerge from it but the second the dragon looked him in the eye, he knew that he was very different from his malicious and greedy dragon father. He didn’t know how, but he was.

Bilbo made a mental note to look for every bit of information about dragons as soon as possible.

To kill some time, Bilbo decided he would teach the dragon few words. He was really getting tired of the constant “mau-ing”, and the journey was rather long so it seemed like a good idea. His visions of teaching the little dragon something more meaningful were cut short for the little wyrm just refused to learn anything at all.

Bilbo took the dragon in his arms and started repeating “da” over and over but Smaug just looked at him like he grew a second head, refusing to make a sound.

“Say da, daling!” Bilbo begged. “Da! Like daddy!” But however kindly the hobbit begged the dragon would not budge. Smaug kept staring at him with his big golden eyes in the are-you-serious manner.

“Oh, come on! I know you can understand me!” Bilbo sighed exasperatedly. Taking a deep breath he eyed the dragon sceptically.

“Say da.” Bilbo said and Smaug pointedly looked to the side, faking indifference.

“Okay, let´s try something different... say ma”

“MAU!” Smaug reacted immediately, his tail swishing excitingly, his attention fully focused on the hobbit.

“You little bugger! I knew you can understand me!” Bilbo huffed as the dragon jumped down from his embrace, crouching and patting the leaves on the ground with his tiny paws. Bilbo felt a foreign tickle of playfulness in his mind. Knowing that Smaug wanted to play he crossed his arms on his chest.

“We are not going to play, unless you learn something.” Bilbo scolded and the tiny wyrm huffed audibly, not stirring from the position. “No.” Bilbo repeated, waggling his finger at the little playful creature but knowing that he wouldn’t be able to resist the cute stare for much longer.

Smaug felt the hobbit´s weakening resistance and charged at him, jumping on his leg and bouncing back.

“You little tease!” Bilbo laughed heartily, grabbing the dragon with one hand, tossing him in the air and catching him again. Nothing could make Bilbo happier than the sound the dragon made when he lifted him above his head. It was not exactly a shout. It was something like a happy long growly yelp followed by a pleased purring.

“You are not going to learn anything, are you?” Bilbo sighed, cuddling the dragon, who immediately patted and licked the hobbit´s face once he was close enough.

“Mau, mau, ma, ma, ma!”

“Don´t call me mama, dummy!” Bilbo pouted rubbing the dragon´s nose with his own.

“Mama!” Smaug repeated happily, scratching the hobbit´s shirt excitedly.

“Now this is unfair! You repeat the wrong stuff! Say “da”!” Bilbo whined and Smaug immediately stilled in his arms, giving him the are-you-serious look again. “Oh, you meany!”

Bilbo let the teaching sessions slide very quickly after that. It was no point trying to teach Smaug anything when he was not willing to listen. He only repeated what he wanted. Although Bilbo had to admit that the little one was making progress with the syllables, he never, ever, repeated anything when Bilbo wanted him to.

Smaug´s repertoire of syllables was expanded by “ba”, “ma”, “la” and “ga”. He liked yelling them randomly and refusing to stop for quite some time but when he got bored he went back to his silent excitement and exploration of everything around him.

A week passed. Bilbo could not stop but to start worrying more and more because they were running out of drinkable water and although according to the map they should reach the exit every moment now. He knew they still had to go northwards to Beorn´s and that would take some time too. Hopefully not too long...

* * *

 

Two days later, Bilbo was close to ripping off his hair. The only thing that was stopping him was the Smaug´s calming presence in the hobbit´s mind. However bad the situation they were in seemed, the dragon always stayed calm. It was like when he had fever and then put a bag of cold ice on his forehead.

After nine days, they finally crossed the elvish gate and Bilbo fell to the ground face first, enjoying the sensation of cold yellowing grass and fresh air. Smaug sniffed around him clearly a little bit confused with him.

“I am so glad we are finally out of that cursed place.” Bilbo clarified when he felt Smaug´s confusion. “Let´s move on, little one.”

Discarding the elvish map he took out another one. A pang of guilt and sadness hit him then. He held the company´s map in his hands, the one Thorin shoved to his hands when the door didn´t open. The sadness was, however, soon replaced by anger. Bilbo shuddered at that, a little bit surprised by his own feelings but he brushed it off quickly. He wouldn’t cry over spilt milk. Not anymore.

He guessed that they were about ten to twelve leagues away from Beorn´s house. Bilbo´s stomach growled then which stopped Smaug in his tracks.

“Guess we have to camp somewhere.” Bilbo mumbled, looking around and then at the dragon. “You think we can stay here?” He asked and received a calm purr from the dragon.

They ate smoked meat and cheese and continued just as the sun started to rise.

* * *

 

The whole day was one big blur. They walked and walked all hours by the edge of Mirkwood. Even Smaug´s excitement over new landscape dulled somewhat after the fifth hour. It was just all the same - tall dark trees on their right and endless straight field on their left.

Bilbo got to the point where he started humming a song and walking with his head backswept, looking at the sky, trying to guess the shapes of clouds -  describing everything to Smaug.

Going on like that for a good while he noticed that he lost his only listener. The lack of Smaug´s presence in his mind made him stop dead in his tracks.

When he turned around he was surprised to see the little dragon sitting few meters behind with a sour expression on his face. Smaug bowed his head but his golden eyes never leaving Bilbo.

As the hobbit came closer, he felt a distinct sensation of unease from Smaug.

“What is going on, darling?” Bilbo asked, clearly lost. Smaug tilted his head and pointedly looked behind the hobbit.

Turning around, Bilbo saw the one thing he wanted to see the entire day – the big gate to Beorn´s house.

“Why are you—“ He started but snapped his mouth closed when the gate suddenly opened, revealing the huge person behind it.

Beorn walked out of the gate towards them in a slow pace which reminded Bilbo of a predator stalking a prey. His hand reached for the blade strapped on his hip but he didn’t draw. Beorn stopped good ten meters away from them, levelling Bilbo with a glare.

The tall shape-shifter looked downright frightening but somehow Bilbo felt his unease and caution. The hobbit returned his glare with a cold blank look.

Beorn was the one who broke the tense silence.

“You reek of death, little bunny.” He rumbled slowly, still eyeing him with unease and suspicion. Bilbo took a long calming breath and narrowed his eyes.

“There were many dead under the mountain.” He replied finally, challenging the shape-shifter to make his move. Smaug silently whined behind him. But however weak Bilbo might be, if Beorn decided to attack them anyhow, he would not go down without a fight. Not now when he had something to protect again.

“Indeed. But I was not talking about their death.” Beorn offered silently, making the hobbit frown. “I am talking about yours.” He said, taking a cautious step forward and leaning to the side to look behind Bilbo.

The hobbit felt Smaug´s fear but the little dragon was stubborn and refused to back down from the skin-changer. Bilbo immediately drew his tiny sword, pointing it at Beorn – who sniffed the air, looking at the small dragon with genuine interest written all over his face. But however interested Beorn seemed, he still didn´t dare to step any closer.

“You are not the same anymore...” Beorn said, looking back at the hobbit.

“You died there...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yet another clifhanger! You happy? You should be.  
> A little sneak peak of the next chapter - spoiler, spoiler, beware:  
> **You will finally get to know why our little Smaug isn´t a mean greedy shit like his big scaly daddy was (In case people were wondering why is our baby dragon all rainbows and cuteness overload)**


	6. The Soul Decides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some time (not really but I procrastinated) so I wrote the chapter. A little bit longer than I expected. Finals are shit, I hate school, enjoy the story!
> 
> *Thanks to Zayroen for Beta-ing!*  
> **Someone help me find idioms in movies, coz my professor had a let´s-assign-bulshit period and I need it for finals...**

“You died there.”

Bilbo did not move for several minutes. He knew. He felt... different. But actually hearing it was still like a hit to his stomach. The longer he pondered about what he was just told, the more numbly he felt. But it was not solely the fact that he died that troubled his mind. No, not by a long shot. What really bothered him was how he died, and most importantly _who_...

He was brought back from his thoughts by a tug on his pants. A very disturbed Smaug was trying to huddle to his leg as close as possible without making himself visible.

“So,” Bilbo started quietly, “what is going to happen now?” He asked bitterly. “Are you going to force me to return to Erebor to _face my crimes_?”

Beorn frowned. “I do not care about whatever crimes you might or might not committed against the dwarves. Nor any other race, for that matter.”

However calmly he said that, it still didn´t make Bilbo relax. He waited for Beorn to continue, carefully calculating his escape possibilities.

 “Don´t worry, I am not going to hurt you.” The skin-changer assured him, but somehow, Bilbo still didn´t feel much safer. “I am... very curious about this-“ He gestured towards the little dragon peaking from behind Bilbo´s leg. “Also, I think we have things to discuss.”

While Beorn led them inside, Bilbo noticed several things: firstly, the big fluffy bees he saw before were gone. Surely it was not that cold. Secondly, the dead silence. No birds chirping, no horses neighing, nothing at all. Bilbo looked around in confusion.

“They smelled your little friend.” Beorn said calmly, opening the doors for them. “Tell me, little bunny, how much do you know about dragons?”

“I know I just fathered one.” Bilbo replied deadpan as he sat down, lifting the dragon from the ground and putting him in his lap. “And that they are not as dangerous as everyone thinks they are.”

“That is not quite true.”

“I don´t see him burning villages or threatening anyone.” Bilbo remarked angrily.

Beorn stayed silent then, watching the dragon with an unreadable face, although when Smaug growled his brows flew upwards and he immediately looked at the hobbit.

“So are you just going to stare at me, or are you going to tell me what´s on your mind. I believe you said we need to discuss things.” Bilbo was definitely dancing on a thin ice but he couldn´t help it. He was done up, hungry and frustrated. “Please,” he added mildly, “I am tired, can we get this over with?”

Beorn took notice of the weariness and frustration in his voice. The little hobbit suddenly looked much, much older. He glanced between him and the dragon in wonder. 

“Very well. So tell me, really, how much do you know about dragons?”

Bilbo hummed and sighed, exhausted. “I know that they breathe fire, are dangerous, greedy, love gold and like to burn down places... or people. At least, the previous Smaug was like that.”

“Previous?” Beorn asked, tilting his head.

“Well, I had no other name for this little guy.” Bilbo clarified, lifting the little dragon and putting him on the table.

“Mau!” Smaug squeaked when he noticed he was no longer in Bilbo´s warm lap. The dragon turned around to pout at the hobbit. His attention was, however, quickly turned on Beorn, when the skin-changer stepped closer.

Bilbo put his arms around his dragon in defence, but his face remained blank. “Don´t...” He warned, but to Beorn, it sounded more like pleading.

“I am simply curious. And your knowledge about dragons is really limited. Are you not wondering why your dragon is all friendly and-” Beorn gestured at the creature mutely, clearly trying to find the right word, “-well, cuddly.”

Bilbo´s eyebrows reached his hairline. It was weird to know that Beorn thought the dragon cuddly.

“Well....” Bilbo trailed off, petting the tiny wyrm. He would´ve never imagined that dragons were this friendly. He was pretty surprised at first but Smaug was just a baby. You can´t judge a newborn child by his father´s deeds. “I´ve never thought about it, really. I never had the time. What do you know about them?”

“There are legends. Speculations. It is said that nothing in this world was born evil – that everything was formed into its contemporary state.  Every Vala made something in this world. Dragons were creations of Melkor. But however evil Melkor was, the dragons were still born pure. So he forced them to bond with his soul – which corrupted them and made them into malicious and greedy beasts.” Beorn finished and looked at the hobbit meaningfully.

Bilbo was staring at nothing for quite some time. “You mean...?” He paused, still trying to process the information.

“That all the dragons born until now, were all bonded either with Melkor, or Sauron.” Beorn finished. “All, except yours.”

Smaug sat on the table, looking at Bilbo with tilted head.

“But how did a jewel become an egg? The dwarves said they delved it out of the mountain.”

“Dragons are magical creatures. I believe they can mate normally like any other species and create their offsprings the usual way but I think that with all the magic they possess, they can actually create a baby without mating. I think I heard somewhere that this is the more dangerous way because they give up all their magic and pass it on the next generation.”

Beorn paused shortly, levelling Bilbo with a heavy look. The hobbit tried not to shiver.

“But the real question is: _How_ did all this happen?” The skin-changer asked finally sitting down and crossing his arms on his chest. “I told you what I knew. I want to know how you came by the dragon. It seems really ridiculous that Smaug would just hand his only egg over.”

Bilbo was silent. Just looking at his little baby with his mouth hanging open. Beorn´s cough forced him out of his thoughts.

“We came to the mountain,” Bilbo finally started with a reminiscent look on his face. “They sent me in to steal a jewel. The Arkenstone.”

“I didn´t think the dwarves were such cowards,” the bear-man interrupted him.” To send the weakest member into a dragon´s lair... no offence.” He added quickly.

Bilbo snorted but shook his head. “None taken. But they had no other choice. Gandalf said the dragon was accustomed to the smell of dwarves. And indeed he was. Smaug couldn’t figure out what I am but he knew I came with dwarves.”

“So it was Gandalf´s idea?” Beorn asked in wonder and Bilbo shrugged.

“But back to the story. Smaug found me, got angry but I managed to escape.” Bilbo kept telling him about how the dwarves came up with the idea to drown the old dragon in molten gold and how it made him even angrier and proceeded to fly out to burn down the Lake-town. Then he told him about how he found the King´s jewel and how Thorin, along with the other dwarves, slowly descended into madness.

Whilst listening to the story, Beorn carefully watched the wyrm on the table. Little Smaug sat there, looking at Bilbo and tilting his head everytime his name was mentioned. 

“I went outside because couldn´t look at them anymore.” The hobbit sighed. “That was when I felt the jewel shaking in my pocket. I took it out and it just hatched.” Taking a deep breath, he continued, albeit much more silently.

“Then Thorin came, and saw the shattered Arkenstone and he- “Bilbo´s voice died in his throat. “We argued and I tripped. I woke up after the battle ended, covered in blood with a dragon by my side. I went to the camp and heard Thorin raging so I escaped. And now I´m here.”

Beorn frowned. “You tripped.” He said, his voice full of doubt. “Why do I have the feeling there is more to it than just a trip?”

“There is nothing more.” Bilbo replied stubbornly, pointedly avoiding Beorn´s eyes.

“You know, even without me being a skin-changer, I would know you are lying? You are a very bad liar.”

“I tripped.” The hobbit said with finality and Beorn felt that he won´t hear anything else on this matter. He growled and stood up, going over to the cellar to get some food and cool himself down.

Beorn was seething. He wasn´t fond of dwarves but now he could happily say he despised them - one of them especially after hearing the story. He grabbed some honey and bread and brought it to Bilbo. He found him with the dragon curled in his lap.

“Here.” Beorn said, putting the food in front of the hobbit. “I believe you are quite hungry.”

“Wait, you said the dragons bonded after their birth. Do you know anything else?” Bilbo asked rather desperately.

“Only that the dragon´s behaviour depends on the person they bond with. And that you might be the only person in whole Middle-Earth who encountered a dragon, stole his egg and survived. You really are a remarkable creature, little bunny.” Beorn smiled, seeing that his guest got annoyed at the ´bunny´ comment. “You are tired.” He added mildly, patting the hobbit´s head. “Rest and we can talk more tomorrow.”

Another tired sigh escaped Bilbo and after he finished his meal he scooped Smaug into his arms and walked over to the place where he slept before. It was already covered by multiple furs and a blanket. He cocooned himself in them and fell asleep almost immediately, with the dragon resting next to his head.

* * *

 

Bilbo woke up to a silent murmur. He opened one eye and scanned the room.

And what he found was probably the most cutest scene.

Beorn was sitting on the ground not too far away, holding a piece of honeycomb, trying to lure Smaug to him with it. The dragon was crouched on the floor behind one of the table legs, watching the skin-changer warily.

“Come here, don’t be scared.” Beorn whispered, leaning forwards. Smaug only tilted his head in suspicion, making a sound that was something between purring and growling. Bilbo felt his confusion and indecision in his mind. He kept silently watching the duo.

Beorn was trying to talk the dragon into coming to him for a good while when he finally got on all four and crawled towards Smaug, offering the honeycomb from his giant paw. For a second it seemed that Smaug would finally come from behind the table leg but he changed his mind and hid again. Only his little red head peaked from behind.

The skin-changer, however, didn´t look like he was going to give up anytime soon and Bilbo had a hard time to contain his laughter.

Only after another five minutes of persuading, Smaug finally crawled from his hideout and sniffed Beorn´s hand, interested in the honey.

He started eating from the skin-changer´s hand and Beorn then used the distraction to pick the dragon up.

Smaug growled when the honey got out of his reach but Beorn quickly handed it over to him again, making the dragon latch onto it immediately, licking the honey.

Bilbo couldn´t keep quiet then, seeing the usually stern and frightening skin-changer cooing at a little baby dragon and petting him with an overly happy look on his face was just too adorable.

“Well, look at you two.” Bilbo laughed, startling Beorn, whose face immediately went back into his usual seriousness.

Clearing his throat and snuggling the dragon closer to him protectively, Beorn replied: “I just... I was curious.”

Bilbo couldn´t stop giggling for quite some time after that.

“He talks.” The skin-changer said, still petting Smaug.

“Yes, he does. Although he refuses to learn the right words, right, Smaug?” Bilbo huffed, coming over to the two and scratching the dragon´s head.

“Bany!” Smaug squealed, immediately forgetting his honey and squirming out of Beorn´s hands. Bilbo picked him up, looking at the giant man with a frown.

“Really? Bunny? That is what you thought him?”

“I just talked and he happened to remember that.”

“Eru help me, you did it on purpose!”

Now it was Beorn´s turn to laugh. “I have no idea what are you talking about.” He grinned.

“Mamamau!” Smaug piped in happily.

* * *

 

Bilbo spent the winter at Beorn´s house.

It was a peaceful time and Bilbo had plenty of time to relax and recover from the stressful period in Erebor.

Smaug learnt more words and surprised both Bilbo and Beorn one particularly cold evening when he started to cough violently.  When Beorn tried to figure out what is wrong with him, Smaug miraculously found out how to breathe fire and almost burned the skin-changer´s whole beard. Beorn kept his distance from the dragon ever since that little incident.

Bilbo found out that his host really wasn´t as scary as he looked. He often woke up to silent cooing and giggling and even when he changed into a bear (first time almost scaring the soul out of the poor hobbit) he was really just a big cuddly animal. Often he spent the nights sleeping near the bear or sometimes even on his back.

The animals came back as well. After his host told him that they fled because they felt the dragon, Bilbo felt worried – the winter was closing and the animals that were used to spent the night in Beorn´s warm hall were now freezing Eru knows where. But after a while Bilbo guessed that they felt no threat from Smaug and they decided to return. (He suspected it was thanks to Beorn´s first transformation after Bilbo came – he saw the bear sneak out during the night and on the following morning the animals were back again.)

Beorn was kind of sad when his little bunny announced he will be leaving soon. He got used to him and his little dragon and it saddened him when Bilbo decided it was time to depart.

He enjoyed the dragon´s presence. It was surprisingly relaxing and pleasant and finally he had a company when he went to hunt some fish.

Despite his disappointment he did his best to prepare them for the long journey. He prepared a pack filled with food, water and blankets and picked two strongest and healthiest ponies for them telling Bilbo that he ought to send them back after he got to the Shire, assuring him that he would be waiting in the mountains to lead them through.

They left a month after the start of spring and Beorn saw them off until they crossed the Misty Mountains. After that he turned back and that was the last time in five following years he saw the little hobbit and his baby dragon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anybody starts bitching at my version of Beorn:  
> -there has to be someone who knows shit (but not elves)  
> -we don´t know a thing about skin-changers so I improvized a little bit  
> -Beorn is old as balls... knows legends and stuff  
> -there is no way he could be that muscular just from eating flowers, so yeah, FISH IS ALLOWED TO EAT IN BEORN´S HOUSE  
> Also:  
> -comments are welcome  
> -Shire in next chapter and maybe MAYBE some dwarves too  
> -after that shit gets real finally....


	7. Foreshadowing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeey! I said there won´t be an upload for some time but finals are being a bitch so I procrastinated (yet again). It´s really hard to stop writing with all the love I get from you! And as a reward for your lovely attitude and support you get a nice long chapter with dwarves (everybody misses the dwarves for some reason) and hobbits and drama! I hope you won´t be disaponted! Don´t forget to read the END NOTES! They are really important this time!
> 
> *My endless thanks to Zayroen, my lovely beta!*  
> **Don´t forget the end notes!**

Bilbo´s heart leapt into his throat when he saw the Shire again. It has only a year and a half or so since he left but it seemed more like a decade to him. The happiness he felt upon the sight of the green hills bathing in the morning mist, the hobbit holes drowned in dusk and the clean blue sky, was indefinable.

“Da!” Smaug squeaked from his shoulder, licking his cheek. Bilbo felt the swishing of his tail on his back and the tickle of happiness, although tainted with innocent confusion, in his mind.

“We are finally home, darling.” Bilbo explained as he spurred his pony further.

They went on in a leisurely pace, heading towards Bilbo´s hobbit hole. Smaug looked from side to side in awe and restlessness. Bilbo felt that his little dragon wanted to explore as much as possible and as soon as possible. He chuckled to himself, scratching his scaly head.

“Soon my darling, soon.”

* * *

 

To his surprise, his hole was completely empty. He hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath. He crossed the threshold and dropped his almost empty bag on the floor. Smaug growled silently on his shoulder, scratching Bilbo´s back with his hind legs in attempt to get down to the floor. Bilbo set him down and let him to his exploring. The little dragon bolted away sniffing the floor the second he touched it.

The eerie silence of his home was almost deafening. Bilbo slowly walked around, breathing in the air and soaking in the familiarity of the place. He thought his heart would burst with all the happiness he felt.

Bilbo ran his hand on the surface of the kitchen table, enjoying the feeling of the cool wood and the creases on it. Smiling to himself he proceeded to the living-room, stopping in front of his favourite armchair now covered with a white sheet. He took it away, letting it fall to the ground with a dramatic swish. Bilbo sank into the soft armchair with a pleased sigh.

Closing his eyes he listened to the silent sounds of Smaug´s claws hitting the wooden floor. Only a short moment passed since he sat down, when his little cute dragon trotted into the room and stopping in front of Bilbo.

“Home?” Smaug asked carefully, eyeing Bilbo with his big golden eyes.

Bilbo scooped him into his arms and laid him in his lap where the dragon curled into a ball.

He smirked to himself as he petted the dragon.

“Hello, Hamfast.” He greeted loudly with his eyes still fixed on Smaug.

Only a soft gasp is what he received as an answer.

Finally looking behind he met his friend´s eyes with a sweet smile on his lips. “It´s good to see you.”

“Bilbo...” Hamfast whispered in disbelief.

* * *

 

To say Hamfast was surprised was an understatement. He was stunned into silence by what he found in Bag End. It is as if a ghost has returned from the afterlife. It is not that he wasn´t happy to see his friend. It only felt so surreal. Also, he had to admit that he felt a little scared. Something about Bilbo was very different. He looked... odd, but he couldn´t tell how.

They sat together, drinking tea like before. Like Bilbo never left. And the little red scaly creature sniffed around him, regarding him with awe and interest. Hamfast tried his best not to flinch away.

“So, how have you been, Bilbo?” The gardener asked tentatively, sipping his tea.

Bilbo´s hand with tea stopped in midair. He stared at the tea for a while and the little crimson creature started to growl and it kept growling until Bilbo murmured something silently. The little something bowed it´s head and sat next to Bilbo protectively, eyeing Hamfast with suspicion.

“I´ve been... well.” Bilbo said with a smile but the dull sound of his voice told Hamfast exactly _how_ well his neighbour was. Another silent while followed and the gardener started to feel very awkward.

“Mau!” Smaug yelled suddenly, jumping forward in a playful manner, making Hamfast jump and spill his tea. Bilbo laughed and put down his tea to pull the dragon backwards by his tail, taking him off the table into his lap.

“Sorry,” Bilbo apologized shyly, “he only wants to play.” He assured as Hamfast gasped for breath to calm himself down.

“What is _he,_ anyway?” The gardener asked as he attempted to dry his shirt with a handkerchief.

“Why, a dragon of course. Right, darling? A cute little dragon!” Bilbo answered and cooed at the now purring creature.

“A dragon?” The gardener squeaked. He heard about dragons – great fire-breathing wyrms, with scales hard as steel and claws sharp as razors. This wingless little creature looked very unlike the frightening legend.

“C-can he breathe fire?”

Bilbo graced him with a charming smile, raising his eyebrow suggestively and the dragon in his lap looked very much like he was grinning at him. Suddenly, the hobbit felt very uncomfortable.

“How was the adventure?” He asked quickly to change the subject.

Bilbo proceeded to tell him about the dwarves and the quest. Hamfast noted with sadness that the enthusiasm from storytelling his friend had before was not there anymore. He retold his adventures with monotonous dull voice and a distant look.

Bilbo was just telling him about the orcs and wargs when he heard voices from outside soon followed by knocking. The two hobbits looked at each other in question. Bilbo stood up and went to open the door, Hamfast following closely behind.

They were greeted by dozens of curious-looking hobbits who were crowding in front of his door.

“What—“ Bilbo stammered, looking positively taken aback. “Why is there the whole neighbourhood standing in my garden?”

They all started shouting over one another, greeting him and asking him where he was and why he was, and what he did and so on and so on, until Bilbo finally snapped.

“SHUT UP, EVERYONE!” He yelled. All the hobbits fell into a stunned silence, staring at him. Even Hamfast seemed to be rather surprised while he inched away.

 “That´s better,” Bilbo commented silently, scanning the crowd. “Now tell me what´s the meaning of this.” He added calmly.

“We saw the pony outside. We were wondering if you´ve returned.” One of them (Bilbo couldn´t quite tell who) answered.

They all started shouting again, asking him all the questions at once.

Bilbo did his best not to roll his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Turning around he was prepared to slam the door closed and retreat into his lovely hole when a shrill “Bilbo Baggins what is the meaning of this?!” echoed throughout the whole neighbourhood, silencing the other hobbits effectively.

This time Bilbo didn´t restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

“Nice to see you too, Lobelia.” He said dully, not even trying to mask his irritation. “Is there a reason you grace us with your presence?”

“The nerve!” She shrieked, swinging her umbrella. “What are you doing here?!”

“I live here.” Bilblo retorted coldly, tilting his head.

“You ran away with a bunch of dirty dwarves and now you just... come back like nothing ever happened?!” She kept yelling at him for a good while but Bilbo just stopped listening after the first sentence. He noticed all his neighbours watched the scene with interest.

“I fail to see your point.” Bilbo interrupted her, turning all the attention she had on him. “As I said before: I live here. I have all the right to return without telling anyone, especially not you.”

Lobelia took a deep breath, prepared to yell at him again but Bilbo would have none of it.

“Be silent!” He ordered sternly, making many hobbits gasp in surprise and Lobelia turning several shades of red darker. “I am in no mood for listening to your nonsense. I am tired from the journey and you are the last person here I want to see.”

Another bout of gasps echoed throughout the crowd but Bilbo paid them no attention.

“You come here to yell at me as if you own the place, which you do not and I can assure you that you never will. You are rude and ill-wishing and you always tried to get your hands on my home and my mother´s silverware.”

“How dare you—“

“Quiet!” Bilbo interrupted her again although a much roughly and her mouth snapped closed with a click.  “I am not finished yet. You have been everything but pleasant and I think I have enough witnesses today to prove it.” Another heavy pause followed and this time, Lobelia did not dare to say anything.

“You are no longer welcome here, dear cousin,” Bilbo announced, stressing the last part with as much irony as he could muster. “Everyone who wants to hear about my journey is welcome to stay, the rest of you who do not wish to do so, I must ask you to leave my property – you are ruining my garden.”

A soft growl echoed from behind him and the hobbits gasped again. Bilbo rolled his eyes again as he crouched down and offered a hand to his dragon so he could climb up on his shoulder, noticing that many of his neighbours stared at him with their mouths open again.

“Good-bye, dear cousin!” Bilbo wished before she could start shrieking again. “It was nice to see you, don´t bother coming anytime soon.”

With these words he turned on his heel and walked inside. One by one, the hobbits slowly followed him, offering silent excuses to the stunned, open-mouthed Lobelia rooted on the spot.

“Was it really necessary?” Hamfast asked silently, giving Lobelia one last pitying look before he closed the door.

* * *

Ever since that day, there were no real confrontations. The hobbits of the Shire were more or less content with their queer neighbour. Bilbo told them his story, albeit he skipped the part of the war, his banishment and his death. After all, he didn´t want to scare all his neighbours right after his scene with Lobelia.

Some enjoyed his story, some shook their heads but none of them left until he was finished.

Bilbo acquired many titles – some of them flattering, others not so much. But he didn´t mind. Even despite the name-calling and gossiping behind his back from time to time, his neighbours were mainly nothing but nice to him and his scaly dragon. Bilbo suspected it was just thanks to his cute dragon and his big golden eyes the hobbits were nicer than ever to them both. Nobody could resist Smaug´s cute big-eyed looks.

As the time went slowly on, Smaug grew up and became the main attraction of the whole Shire.

Just before Bilbo´s fifty-fourth birthday Smaug finally looked more like his dragon father than ever – his neck and tail grew longer and slender and his wings developed fully. His once soft golden-red scales were now more golden than red and harder than ever and his head was adorned by tiny sharp horns. Although he was almost as tall as Bilbo when he straightened up and stretched his neck he still didn´t lose his big cute child-like eyes.

But Smaug was not the only one that changed. Bilbo noticed several changes on himself. Of course, it was only thanks to his dear friend Hamfast, who kept throwing in small comments about his appearance. If Bilbo didn´t know better he would say his friend tried to court him as well.

Only after he heard his friend mutter “You are positively glowing!” and “You lost weight again!” for the umpteenth time in three days, Bilbo found himself studying himself in a long mirror.

He indeed lost some weight. His skin hasn´t gained one wrinkle – he would even go as far as saying he lost few, his hair gained a golden shine and his eyes were more blue than gray. Of course, Bilbo Baggins was not one to pay much attention to his looks – he took his time to brush his hair and straighten up his waistcoat to look presentable and proper but that was it. So when he discovered these slight improvements in his looks he ended up shrugging and brushing the matter off.   

The most favoured activity of every fauntling in the Shire was watching Bilbo teaching Smaug how to fly. They ran around the meadow, laughing and cheering everytime Bilbo threw his dragon in the air and the latter managed to keep himself afloat, even if it was only for a short while.

They spent the whole summer on meadows, laughing and playing with fauntlings, having the greatest time of his life. His lovely hobbit hole was constantly filled with visitors, both male and female and Bilbo had the feeling that many of them were trying to woo him with cakes, flowers and compliments.

It quite surprised him – to see so many hobbits expressing their interest in him – but he brushed it off, politely hinting that he was not interested in any serious relationships just yet. Despite his hints, his numerous suitors still kept on gifting him various flowers, cakes and items, insisting they had no ulterior motives aside from improving their friendship.

What also amused him, were Smaug´s reactions to these courting incidents – he would growl and huff at anyone who as much as complimented his beloved hobbit daddy and everytime he got his paws at a bouquet of flowers or a present he would shred the unfortunate thing apart and  then act like nothing happened.

Every time Bilbo scolded him for it but Smaug only grinned, tackling his da to the ground and proceeding to lick his face.

Bilbo and Smaug spent four years filled with happiness and peace in the Shire and Bilbo successfully forgot about all the misfortunes with the dwarves, gold and wars from before.

However, Bilbo was forced to remember after his fifty-fifth birthday.

It was the third morning after the party when Bilbo decided it was the perfect time for picking mushrooms in the nearby woods. He took his basket, his dagger and a pocket knife and wandered off when the morning mist still covered the ground and the cool dew chilled his feet.

 His basket was filled with various mushrooms not three hours since he left but he kept walking in the dead silence of the woods for much longer, enjoying the calm and fresh air. Smaug flew off somewhere – probably scaring birds or discovering new places but he was still close enough for Bilbo to feel his presence in his mind.

Bilbo walked in silence his mind leagues away when he was startled by a bunch of birds suddenly flying off.

“Smaug! Stop scaring the poor birds, what have they ever done to you?” He called, shaking his head. He expected some kind of witty answer with a smile on his face but the smile vanished in an instance when Bilbo realized whatever scared the birds off could not be Smaug, for the dragons presence in his head was too faint, which meant he was too far away to have done it.

Still, Bilbo brushed it off and continued, only to have a big calloused hand pressed over his mouth and a dagger put to his throat. He dropped his basked and immediately reached for the Sting but the person grabbed his arm and pressed the dagger harder against his throat.

“Hello, master hobbit!” A sly voice said into his ear. “Having a good time?” The person chuckled as he threw the elvish dagger away and with a sudden wave of horror and panic Bilbo realized that the person behind him was a dwarf. He was dragged backwards and spun around to face his attacker. Bilbo´s one arm was twisted painfully behind him and his other was clawing the dwarf´s chest in attempt to put some space between them.

“So this is the traitor.” The dwarf hissed and Bilbo turned his head to the side in disgust as the dwarf´s hot stinky breath hit his face. “It is hard to believe that a weak creature like you could cause so many problems, right boys?” He called and the hobbit heard two other dwarves step from behind the trees.

“Really hard to believe.” One said.

“But it´s really a shame,” the other joined in, “he looks quite lovely.”

The first dwarf released him, shoving him into his friends who immediately seized his arms, dragging behind until his back hit a thick tree.

The three dwarves snickered as they eyed the hobbit.

“Too bad we have to kill you, buddy.” The first one said, pressing the blade to the hobbit´s cheek until he made it bleed. Bilbo only stared at him with a dull look, inwardly trying to control his racing heart. The dwarf growled at the lack of reaction.

“But maybe if you begged, we could find a way to... _spare_ you.” The other dwarf whispered lewdly into his ear, sniffing at Bilbo´s hair.

The hobbit slowly turned his head towards the dwarf on his right, looking him in the eye and making him pause in surprise.

“You want me to beg?” Bilbo whispered innocently, tilting his head. The dwarf´s eyes lit with excitement as he shifted on the spot, nodding. The two remaining dwarves looked at each other in anticipation.

“I don’t think so.” Bilbo said with disgust, head-butting the dwarf on his right, kicking the one with the dagger in the crotch and smacking the one on his left in his face.

Not wasting any time, Bilbo bolted, stopping only to pick his sword form the ground. He ran straight ahead, not bothering to look behind.

“You little whore!” The dwarf Bilbo kicked in balls cried angrily, running after him.

Bilbo ran and ran and he cursed his luck when he tripped, falling to the ground. Supporting himself on the tree, the hobbit stood up catching his breath.

Not a second later he screamed in pain as a dagger flew by, burying itself through Bilbo´s hand into the tree.

He tried to pull it out but it was buried too deep and the three assassins caught him just a moment later.  Bilbo yelled in pain again as a rough hand grabbed his hair and yanked his head backwards.

“You little bastard, I´m going to mutilate you before I kill you!” The dwarf said, spitting on the hobbit´s face before slapping him.

Bilbo only laughed as the dwarf pulled the dagger out of the tree. Bilbo fell to his knees, still laughing.

“Losing your mind so soon? Just wait till I´m finished with you, whore!” The dwarf growled angrily as he slapped the hobbit again.

“I don´t think so...” Bilbo whispered, panting.

“What did you say?!”

“I said, I don´t think so!” Bilbo repeated, looking the dwarf in the eye, smirking.

And just as the assassin raised his hand again, a loud roar echoed throughout the forest, making the three dwarves freeze and look around in panic.

“What was that?” The lewd one asked looking frantically around.

“Oh, merciful Mahal—“ The quiet one gasped as Smaug descended from the trees. The dwarf´s surprise was short-lived as the dragon bore his claws in his throat and shredded it apart.

The two remaining dwarves stepped back, immediately drawing Smaug´s attention to them as their friend choked to death on his own blood.

Not a second later, the other assassin fell to the ground dead, as the dragon bit the dwarf´s head, breaking his spine with a brief forceful jerk.

Bilbo stood up, picking his sword from the ground and stepping towards the remaining dwarf who sat on the ground, shaking with fear.

The dwarf looked from the growling dragon standing on his friend´s corpse to the approaching hobbit.

“Who sent you?” Bilbo asked coldly, pressing the tip of his sword to the dwarf´s throat.

“Please, don´t hurt me! I am begging you! Please!”

“You are pathetic.” Bilbo said calmly, his face twisted with spite. “Who sent you?”

“I got a letter from Erebor promising reward! W-with the king´s seal, asking me to find a hobbit named B-Bilbo Baggins in the Shire. There was a picture of you! That is all I know! I swear!” The dwarf assassin cried, looking from Bilbo to the dragon in fright.

“Well in that case you ought to tell the king your mission was not successful.” The hobbit offered calmly, lowering his sword.

“R-really?” The trembling dwarf stammered, his face lighting up with hope. “You are going to let me go?”

Bilbo eyed him with indifference. “Umm,” he hummed, “no, not really.”

* * *

 

Hamfast just finished tending to Bilbo´s garden when he spotted the hobbit walking up the road. He waved at his neighbour, greeting him in delight.

“Oi, Master Bilbo! How was the morning stroll? Got any mushrooms?” Hamfast asked but his smile fell off as he noticed that Bilbo returned without the basked or his dragon.

Bilbo´s hair was tousled, his clothes were dirty, there was a bloody smudge on his cheek and his left hand was bleeding. “Are you alr—“ Hamfast´s voice died in his throat when he met the hobbit´s eyes.

Cold shivers ran down the gardeners back upon the sight of his friend. Bilbo was smiling at him softly, eyeing him with his cold, now golden eyes, which very much reminded him of the eyes of his dragon.

“What happened?” Hamfast asked carefully, not daring to look away.

Bilbo´s smile grew bigger as he raised his bloody hand. “Oh, this? Nothing much, don´t worry.” he answered, his golden eyes still fixed on his hand. “I only had a little.... _accident_ during my walk. But I am alright, I can assure you.” He said.

Hamfast took Bilbo´s hand in his own and carefully cleaned it with his handkerchief. The gardener was ready to start fussing and lecturing his friend to be more careful but the fact that his palm was perfectly alright made him bite his own tongue.

“Where is Smaug?” The gardener asked, still not looking away from Bilbo.

After a while of eerie silence, the hobbit gave him a cold answer.

“Taking care of the accident.”

* * *

 

A sudden shattering noise startled Kíli from reading his book. He got up from his bed, walking towards the bathroom.

“Fíli?” He asked as he knocked on the door. Pressing his hear against it, he held his breath and listened. When a muffled sob echoed from inside, Kíli slammed the door open and looked around in panic.

He found his brother sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth and his hands pulling his hair.

“Fíli, what´s wrong?” Kíli asked in panic as he sunk to his knees next to his golden-haired brother, putting an arm around him. “What happened, brother?” Kíli whispered, as he tried to pry his brother´s hands from his hair.

“I can hear him!” Fíli whispered, voice filled with horror. “I can hear him in my head! He is so angry, Kíli! ”

“Who is?” The archer asked in confusion. “Whom can you hear?”

“Bilbo!” Fíli whispered shakily, burying his face into his hands. “Bilbo...”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM! Another cliffhanger! But I put the dwarves in! >:3 And we finally got to the main plot! Anyway, do not panic!  
> Also, before anyone starts even typing "OCC" and things associated with that, I can assure you the cold attitude is not what it seems to be and Bilbo is still a cute cuddly muffin (only a little pissed at the moment, but then again, who wouldn´t be?). 
> 
> So here is the thing: I would never have thought that this story is going to have over 100 kudos so if you guys manage to hit 400 till I upload the next chapter, I will gift you with a nice present!


	8. What took you so long?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh damn. I am pretty sure I said 400.. not five fucking hundred! I am so so very happy, guys! Here is another chapter.... and the promissed gift - NEW ART! Enjoy the new chapter!
> 
> *Thanks to Zayroen for beta-ing!*  
> **Thanks to Miruna-Lavinia for her beautiful art http://miruna-lavinia.deviantart.com/art/By-your-hand-427701790**  
> ***Bilbo with golden eyes - http://shaerahaek.tumblr.com/post/73977473742/bilbo-with-smaug-s-eyes-for-my-fic-by-your-hand***

All Bilbo could do was to smile and assure his friend that he was fine and he really didn´t need to worry.

“No, you are not alright, Bilbo.” The gardener said with a stern voice.

Curse Hamfast´s sharp eyes and keen senses.

Bilbo could feel his facade cracking. The anger was subsiding quickly and Hamfast´s thrice damned worried face was not helping Bilbo at all to keep up the pretences.

Forcing another sweet smile on his lips, Bilbo put a hand on Hamfast´s shoulder. A small stab of guilt jabbed him when he felt his friend jump and his face twist in fright and worry.

“It´s nothing I can´t deal with, Ham.” Bilbo assured him for what felt like the thousandth time. Bilbo sighed and looked away. He really was a bad liar.

Patting his friend´s shoulder shortly, Bilbo walked away to his front door.

“Actually,” Bilbo paused in mid-step and turned around, “there is something you could help me with.” He said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head shyly.

“Yes?” Hamfast replied, albeit with hesitation.

“Could you, perhaps, notify me if there are any... dwarves looking for me, in the future?” He laughed awkwardly, shunning Hamfast´s worried eyes. “I just want to be, you know, prepared for their arrival.” Another awkward laugh. “They eat a lot.” Bilbo finished lamely but his sweet smile was still in place. At least he hoped so.

“Of course.” Hamfast said silently, squeezing the bloodied handkerchief to his chest.

“Thank you.”

* * *

 

Bilbo silently closed the door behind him. He went to the bathroom, where he washed the dry blood off his hands and then walked to his bedroom.

Squatting down, he filled the fireplace with wood but when he reached for the matches, they weren´t in their usual place. With a shaky sigh he looked around the room. He found the matches on his night-table. Taking them with trembling hands, he went back to the fireplace but a glance in the mirror which stood in the corner made him pause.

Bilbo approached the mirror with resignation. A soft whimper escaped him when he saw his own reflexion.

His hand absently reached for the bloody cheek, his shaky fingers ghosting over the place where the dwarf cut him. He forgot to wipe the blood off after Smaug healed him.

Choked sobs wracked his body as he tried to rub the blood off and hold back the tears, getting more and more frustrated. Abandonig his attempts of getting rid of the blood he covered his face with his palms instead. The sobbing turned into pathetic crying as his legs gave up under him and he sank to the floor.

Bilbo´s frustrated yell echoed throughout Bag End as he let all the fear, confusion, betrayal and pain finally out. Getting back to his feet, he swung his hand and broke the mirror with his bare fist.

He didn´t even register the pain anymore. He grabbed the frame of the shattered mirror and slowly sagged down to his knees again, crawling to his bed, ignoring the shards on the floor and leant against the footboard, where he kept crying till he had no tears left to cry.

* * *

 

Smaug found his hobbit father sitting on the floor like a broken doll – with his cheek resting on his bent knees, his arms hanging lifelessly on his sides and teary eyes staring into distance.

The red dragon sniffed around him worriedly, trying to sweep the shards away from him with his tail. The whole room smelt like misery and blood.

Smaug sneezed, trying to get rid of the coppery smell and approached the hobbit, lowering his head to lick the blood away from Bilbo´s hurt hand. His father still looked like he didn´t take any notice of his presence so when the dragon finished healing his hand, he went to the bed and took the red blanket in his mouth, dragging with him.

Trying to put the blanket on Bilbo´s shoulder, Smaug nudged Bilbo away from the bed so he could curl around him. Bilbo moved finally, scratching the dragon´s jaw but still not looking at him.

“Don´t cry, daddy.” Smaug said carefully, craning his neck around his father, pushing him carefully so he would lie down. Bilbo understood what his dragon was trying to do so he put the blanket around his shoulders and laid his head against Smaug´s warm belly.

“Don´t cry, da,” Smaug whispered, “I will take care of you. I will not let anyone hurt you, ever again.” He said, licking Bilbo´s face and nuzzling closer to him.

“I know, darling.” Bilbo whispered back, covering his face with his palms again. “I know.”

* * *

 

When Hamfast knocked on the round green door of Bag End the next morning with a basket of fresh bread and cakes in his hand, he expected everything except a perfectly happy, blue-eyed Bilbo, flashing a brilliant smile at him.

The gardener had to bite his cheek pretty hard and look away to keep the unexpected blush off his face.

But however happy Bilbo seemed to be, Hamfast still noticed the shadow of sadness in his eyes. Even the ever cheerful Smaug was sitting in the corner of the room like a statue, watching Bilbo´s every move.

Hamfast was not a stupid hobbit. He knew that whatever happened in the woods yesterday was not “nothing serious”, as Bilbo put it. And Hamfast decided he would be prepared in the future.

The moment the door of Bag End closed behind him, he took off running to the Great Smials, because if there was gossip, the Tooks knew first. If there were any dwarves coming to the Shire for Bilbo, he would know about it.

* * *

 

Three months passed, and Bilbo almost forgot about the incident with assassins. He dared to hope that His Royal Majesty Under the Mountain tired of hunting down unimportant hobbits and forgot about him.

 

He had no time to dwell on things like dwarf kings when his cousin Drogo was getting married.

Bilbo was busy playing with fauntlings, politely declining potential dancing suitors and carefully explaining that “no, he didn´t feel like courting anyone just yet, thank you very much”. Smaug was busy flying around, either casually dropping flower petals everywhere or chasing “lovesick fools” away from his daddy.

They were having wonderful time and Bilbo allowed himself to completely relax and indulge himself in entertaining the children with his stories.

His happiness, however, didn´t last very long. Just as the sun started to set and he was in the middle of re-telling the story of a man that could change his shape into a bear, Hamfast came running all sweaty and wide-eyed.

Bilbo stood up once he spotted his gardener, supporting his friend and waiting till he catches his breath.

“What´s wrong, Ham?” Bilbo asked laughing as he handed the hobbit a pint of beer. “You look as if you just saw a ghost!”

“Bilbo, listen to me!” Hamfast gasped, cupping his friend´s cheeks with his hands. The urgency in Hamfast´s voice made Bilbo´s smile die away. “There are dwarves in Bree and they are looking for you.”

All the cheer and colour from Bilbo´s face vanished in a second. A weak “what?” was all he could muster.

“You need to hide.” The gardener insisted, tugging him away from the crowd by his hand. Smaug flew above them, leading up to Bag End.

“Get your things, you are staying at our place.” Hamfast ordered as he opened the green door and hushed Bilbo inside, pausing when he saw that his friend did not move from the spot. “Bilbo, please, hurry up!” The gardener pleaded, but when Bilbo looked him in the eye, smiling the same sweet smile he had when he came from the woods, he knew that the hobbit will not come.

“When they come, lead them here.” Bilbo said.

“No, you can´t—“ Hamfast protested but Bilbo´s raised hand shut him up.

“Get me a pony, please.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I´m leaving. My staying here is not safe for you, nor any other hobbit, I´m afraid.”  Bilbo said, stepping inside, pushing a bag of coins into the gardener´s hand. “Get the pony.”

“You don´t need to do this.” Hamfast protested silently, looking at the other hobbit´s retreating back with sadness.

When Hamfast returned with the pony, Bilbo was already standing outside, cooing at Smaug who stood before him, his neck gracefully bowed and wings spread. The dragon was now higher than him and Hamfast couldn´t help but to remember the first time they met. Almost five years ago he was only a little chubby soft-scaled dragon always following Bilbo around. 

He put the pony´s reins in his friend´s hand and refused to meet the hobbit´s eyes as he secured his bags on the saddle. Bilbo huffed in amusement and hugged the gardener, who immediately returned the hug.

Pushing two envelopes in Ham´s hands, Bilbo smiled widely and hopped onto the waiting pony.

“Give one to Drogo,” he said, “and read the other. Farewell, my friend. Thank you for everything.”

With those words he spurred the pony and left his crying gardener behind.

* * *

 

It felt like all the happiness and the feeling of safety was just a surreal dream. A veil of lies and false hopes he was putting over his heart from the moment he entered the Shire.  

How fast can one´s world crumble down and burn into nothing but ashes.

Oh the irony of that.

The one person who knew best what it felt like to be forced out of his home, the one whom he helped to get the lost home back from a dragon was now paying him back by sending his scabby dogs to hunt him down.

How many times can a heart be broken until it finally stops feeling?

Bilbo didn´t stop at Rivendell. He headed east to the Misty Mountains barely even resting. He knew the pony was way too tired but he kept urging it further and further until he reached the hidden path that crossed the dangerous mountains.

When he heard Smaug´s familiar roar in the distance he smiled to himself. Everything went perfectly.

He dismounted and walked further, stopping when he heard a very familiar deep voice rumble:

“What took you so long, little bunny?”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how was the chapter?:D Did you like it? Did you like the art? Also - BEORN! :D You know what that means? Smaug playing with him! Beorn will finally get some proper sparring partner!  
> Next chapter hopefully comming soon!  
> Thank you so much for all your support and love! I appreciate it very much!!!


	9. The World is at my Feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another chapter up. I always think about what to in this "chapter notes" but when I finally get to it, I always forget what I wanted to write. Also there is a surprise at the end:P I hope you´ll be happy with what you find!  
> Anyway, I´m throwing more tags in. 
> 
> *Thanks Zayroen - who keeps putting up with my shit*  
> **More babies in this one**

When he was woken up by roars and falling trees for the third time that afternoon, he couldn´t just let it slide anymore. Bilbo groaned in frustration as he rolled around in the soft grass before he stood up and stomped into the woods. He was trying to nap a little bit, like he did every day since he came to live with Beorn, but with every day that passed it was more and more difficult.

He fondly remembered the early days, when he laid in the emerald-green grass under a huge lonely tree, not very far from the skin-changer´s hall, enjoying the melodic tweeting of various birds and a soft caress of warm breeze on his cheeks. Smaug was always napping above him in the tree or hunting fish with Beorn.

But as Smaug grew older and noticeably bigger, Beorn found in him a great sparring partner. The dragon was at first rather shy and timid around the big man slash bear but with time he came out of his shell and their games escalated into proper fights really quickly. Bilbo often wondered how they manage to stay unharmed as they seem to use their claws and teeth without any restriction.

Bilbo often ran between them and yelled at them when he thought they were overdoing it but they both assured him that it was only a game and they are alright and unharmed. And Smaug always was. Beorn got away with few scratches and bite marks and he always shooed the hobbit away, when he tried to tend to his wounds. Bilbo tried to scold his dragon for not being careful around the more vulnerable man but Beorn intervened every time and praised Smaug for finally being able to land a proper hit, always saying he´s growing into a fine predator.

At first, their fights were only face-to-face brawls which ended up with them both rolling down the hill, trying to pin the other to the ground but nowadays they spent their time “playing proper predators” in the woods of Mirkwood, hiding and trying to hunt the other one down.

However, Bilbo didn´t take the violation of his napping kindly. The hobbit was just taking a deep breath to shout into the woods to stop the two from making such ruckus, when bear-Beorn ran past him followed a very excited looking Smaug.

The skin-changer tried his best to dodge the dragon´s air-dives but he wasn´t quick enough. Smaug caught him and then rolled on the grass, grunting and roaring at each other like rabid animals.

“You two cut it out right now!” Bilbo warned, waggling his finger at them. They both froze immediately, looking at the hobbit with wide eyes. When they untangled themselves, Smaug sat on the grass, his head bowed apologetically and Beorn changed into his human self.

“You are worse than little children! A hobbit can´t even nap around you two!” Bilbo huffed and puffed as the two culprits playfully nudged and poked each other, not really listening to him.

“Stop it!” Bilbo ordered, “and put some clothes on, for Eru´s sake!” The hobbit whined, covering his eyes. Beorn only laughed and walked away, muttering about shy hobbits.

“Don´t be mad, daddy,” Smaug spoke up, stalking towards Bilbo and nuzzling his giant head into his chest. “We were only playing!” He said, purring as the hobbit scratched his jaw.

“I know, but you have to play a little bit quietly. Daddy wants to sleep!”

“Sorry.” The dragon chuckled and curled himself around the small hobbit.

“Gosh, you have grown.” Bilbo smiled fondly, petting the dragon. “I remember when you were just a tiny chubby dragon baby. You used to sit on my shoulder, or head.”

“I am bigger than Beorn now!” Smaug said, positively glowing with happiness and delight.

“But only when you crane your neck.” Bilbo teased, making the dragon pout. The hobbit laughed but he soon realized it was a mistake because Smaug shoved him with his tail over his head, raising Bilbo from the ground.

“No, no, no, put me down, love, put me down, I´m sorry!” Bilbo yelled between the bouts of laugh.

“You will need to overcome your fear of heights, da, I want you to fly with me.” Smaug purred, satisfied with his revenge. 

“Not a chance!”

“I am sorry we woke you up.” Smaug said as he finally put his hobbit father down. “We got carried away a little bit.”

“It´s not just that. I just want you to be more careful. What if the elves find you?”

Smaug immediately sobered up.

“You don´t have to worry about that, little bunny.” Beorn interrupted whatever Smaug wanted to say. “That is the last thing you should worry about. Smaug knows exactly where he can and cannot go. And the elves know better than to cross my boundaries.

“Yes, I know, I know.” Bilbo huffed. “The problem is you tend to forget that when you wander off exploring, love.” Bilbo argued. 

He knew that Beorn warned Smaug that if he ever scented something unfamiliar, he ought to tell him right away. Bilbo was thankful for the skin-changer´s cautiousness – despite their pretend hunts in Mirkwood, Beorn forbid Smaug to leave their territory. He showed the dragon how big it was, saying that if he went any further he could get seriously hurt or captured by elves. Smaug was very sceptical at first but he changed his mind very quickly when Beorn told him that his father would be in danger too – which was an incredibly effective way of making Smaug listen to him every time.

Only one mention of Bilbo´s name was enough to make Smaug listen to everything Beorn said and obey without questioning him. Beorn tried to tease him and even rile the dragon up but he quickly learnt the hard way that the dragon didn´t joke around when Bilbo was involved. That was the first time Beorn felt on his own skin what it was to anger a dragon and he never teased him about Bilbo ever again. Of course, they both agreed that Bilbo wouldn´t know about this particular incident.

“I swear I will not stray away.” Smaug purred, unfolding his wings, grinning at his father mischievously. “Under one condition!”

Bilbo had a very bad feeling about that condition. Especially when Smaug _and_ Beorn grinned at him like madmen. The hobbit barely resisted flinching away.

“What condition?” Bilbo inquired, chuckling nervously and slowly edging away.

“I want to show you what true freedom looks like.” 

A very, very bad feeling.

* * *

 

“This is not a good idea. You are still too young! Not-not strong enough! What if we fall? What if you tire? W-what if-what if we die!!”

Smaug only rolled his eyes.

“We are going to be alright, da! Stop fretting!” The dragon growled impatiently as he nudged his mother-hen hobbit playfully, hoping that he will stop worrying so much.

Thankfully, Beorn intervened as he strapped the saddle on his scaly back.

“Smaug is anything but not strong enough. You really don´t need to worry, little bunny, he managed to carry me out of the woods once.” Beorn assured Bilbo, patting the dragons back.

“If you grin any wider, you´ll rip your face apart.” Bilbo retorted, still fidgeting and trying to talk his way out of it. Too bad neither Beorn nor Smaug were listening to him.

“Enough excuses!” Beorn rumbled, seizing Bilbo under his armpits and heaving him up into the saddle.

“Why are you two doing this to me?” The hobbit whined as he gripped the dragon´s slender but muscular neck.

“You are going to like it, you´ll see.” Beorn laughed while making sure the saddle will hold.

“You are going to love it.” Smaug added as he crouched down and unfolded his wings, slowly crawling toward the edge of the Carrock. 

A gust of strong wind hit Bilbo in his face. He stared down from the back of his dragon, silently prying for help. Smaug however didn´t move a muscle. He crouched on the edge of the bear-like cliff, silently staring into distance.

Bilbo took a deep breath and looked into the distance at the peak of the Lonely Mountain. He really didn´t expect to feel so sad at the sight. He forced himself to look away before any memories flooded his mind. He chose to glare at Beorn, who stood behind them, arms crossed on his chest.

“If this goes bad, I´ll come back to haunt you!”

The only answer he got was a loud hearty laugh and the next thing he knew was the strong wind the sound of his own yell when he noticed he was not connected with the earth anymore.

Bilbo´s whole body went rigid, he shut his eyes tightly and hid his face into Smaug´s neck. His ears hurt from the roaring wind, fingers aching from his tight grip on his dragon and his throat was sore from yelling.

He didn´t know how long they were in the sky when he heard Smaug´s voice, realizing that the wind stopped howling.

“Open your eyes, daddy.”

Bilbo was reluctant at first, shaking his head and whimpering. But Smaug insisted, calming him down through his mind.

“Open your eyes and see what I see.”

So Bilbo opened his eyes. And he saw the entire world at his feet, bathing in golden-red light of the sunset – the colour of his dragon.

The experience was indescribable. Bilbo slowly straightened his back, completely forgetting about his initial fright, staring around with eyes wide and mouth open.

“Close your mouth, you´re going to eat flies.” Smaug warned and Bilbo closed his mouth with a snap.

Bilbo didn´t even notice when he started crying. This really was absolute freedom. Nothing could get him up here.

No angry dwarves, no annoying neighbours, no problems, nothing.

“This is beautiful...” He whispered. Smaug glanced shortly at him, ascending higher towards the clouds.

“I haven´t shown everything, yet.”

* * *

 

“So I guess you had a good time, little hobbit.” Beorn smirked as they entered the hall.

Bilbo only managed to nod before he fell into the heap of furs, immediately falling asleep. Beorn raised his brow in question but before he could ask Smaug beat it to him.

“What are we having for dinner?”

“Fish for you. Honey and salad for me and sleep for your da, apparently.”

Smaug looked over where Bilbo passed out a few moments ago, curled up in a ball, cocooned in the furs.

“He was a bit overwhelmed.” Smaug admitted, grinning fondly. Smaug took his time tending to the tired hobbit - first sniffing around, then licking his face clean and finally curling around him, his chest and neck glowing red as the fire smoldered within him, warming Bilbo up.

“He will need warmer clothes.” Smaug said when Beorn brought the pot full of fish to him.

The skin-changer smiled and nodded. “I´ll take care of that.” He promised.

* * *

 

Bilbo received his new coat in a week. Beorn really outdid himself. The cat was a wonderful deep red colour (although Bilbo had no idea how he managed to colour the leather), with long sleeves with holes for his thumbs and a fluffy snow-white furry collar.

Smaug was currently somewhere out, probably hunting or exploring so Bilbo had all the time in the world to turn around and praise Beorn´s gift.

The skin-changer´s chest puffed with pride and delight.

“This is the most beautiful thing I ever received! Thank you so much!” Bilbo laughed still turning around and looking at himself in the only, rather dirty, mirror Beorn possessed.

The skin-changer contently nursed his pint of mead, sucking a piece of honeycomb when he realised that the hobbit has gone suddenly very quiet. He immediately put his pint down, focussing at Bilbo who stood frozen in front of the mirror, his head turned to the side and his look distant.

“What´s wrong?” Beorn asked.

A long pause followed and the skin-changer stood up, sniffing the air but not sensing anything.

“Smaug.” Bilbo replied quietly bolting outside. “He´s in trouble!”

Beorn followed without any further questioning, sweeping the hobbit onto his shoulder, telling him to navigate.

They didn´t even reach the edge of Mirkwood when Smaug flew down, looking very distressed.

“What happened?” Bilbo yelled, jumping down from Beorn´s shoulder.

“Da! I found these!” The dragon replied after he put something he held in his mouth on the ground with great care.

“What? Wh—?” Bilbo stammered, looking at the thing Smaug was fidgeting around.

“I found these, in the woods! And I saved them!” The dragon explained excitedly, eyeing Bilbo with hope in his golden eyes. “They were almost eaten by a spider! I saved them!”

“Spiders? How far have you gone this time?” Beorn inquired, frowning.

“Not very far. I was at the edge of our territory when I heard them crying,” he gestured to the nest filled with three little birds. “I went to look what was wrong, that´s when I saw the spider, which I killed!” Smaug added, flowing with pride.

Beorn didn´t need to be told twice. He changed into his bear form and dashed into the dark woods, leaving the dragon and hobbit behind.

Bilbo stared at the three brown, crying owlets with opened mouth, still not capable of speech.

“They were in trouble.” Smaug purred sadly, looking at his father with big golden eyes. And Bilbo knew exactly what´s going to follow.

“Can we keep them?” His dragon asked hopefully.

* * *

 

Of course they ended up “adopting” three little owlets when Beorn confirmed that their parents are really gone, probably killed by the spiders or other predators.

At least Smaug spent more time near Beorn´s hall. He kept the owlets company, playing mum and feeding them with fish.

Bilbo sighed fondly as he watched his dragon trying to teach the owlets to talk. Bilbo was reluctant to tell him that they were not going to talk anytime soon, but it was too entertaining to watch him try. What was more entertaining was the enormous pout Bilbo received when he finally broke the news to him.

* * *

 

“I want to see the great sea.” Smaug declared one evening, making Bilbo spit out his tea.

“Come again?” The hobbit asked, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline.

“Let´s go to the west, da. I heard the birds sing about endless blue sea and giant silver ships of elves.” Smaug pleaded. “I want to see it at least once.”

It took Bilbo a second to digest the request. He sighed heavily, rubbing his neck. Before he could protest, Beorn stepped in.

“You should go.” He said, quickly continuing when he saw that the hobbit had the protests at the tip of his tongue. “You should stop by in the Shire, visit old friends...” Beorn gestured meaningfully.

After a long and tense pause, Bilbo signed and drowned his cup of tea in one go. “I don´t need the map.”He said, immediately receiving two questioning looks. “I know exactly where to go.”

“Go gather your things,” the hobbit announced standing up. “We are going to the Blue Mountains.”

* * *

 

Thorin sat on his throne, trying very hard not to jump out and thrash his advisors. Well, all of them but one. Balin was keeping a steady hand on his shoulder, effectively stopping him from leaping out on the arguing dwarves.

“Just be calm, control yourself.” Balin chanted silently, sensing his king´s tension. “Just breathe and stay calm.”

“SILENCE!” Thorin bellowed and Balin exhaled tiredly, rolling his eyes. “I will not tolerate this anymore. You keep arguing like a band of hungry dogs! My decision is definite!”

“But sire!” One of the dwarves piped in. “You cannot go when the people are so restless. Think of your reputation!”

Thorin silenced him with one single frown. “I would worry about my reputation if I were in your place.” The king threatened and the dwarf backed down, fidgeting.

“My lord, I don´t know wh—“

“You know very well what I am talking about. Don´t forget the walls of Erebor have ears master dwarf. And they have heard many unpleasant things. Be careful on which side you stand.” Thorin warned.

“Your Majesty, we are trying to help you!” Another lord intervened, turning Thorin´s wrath on himself. “It is not safe for you to travel now. There could be attempts on your life. Please, be reasonable.”

“If there are attempts, I will deal with them. I am no old dwarf who cannot stand a fight.” Thorin shot back icily. “I am done for today. Leave me.” He waved them off. 

After a quick exchange of looks they bowed and scurried away, leaving the dwarf king alone with Balin.

“That went well.” Balin commented dryly.

“Mahal help me when I find the one who keeps spreading the lies.”

“We will find him, don’t worry.” Balin assured him. “We´ll find him before they could make more problems.”

“I certainly hope so.” The king sighed, rubbing his brow. “Where are the princes?” He asked suddenly, frantically looking around, noticing their absence.

Balin shrugged. “Kíli took Fíli away. He said something about not feeling well. They are probably in their chambers.”

Another sigh from Thorin.

“You understand why I need to go.” Thorin more stated than asked, pressing the heels of his palm to his eyes.

“Yes, I do.” Balin patiently answered.

“I need to do this.”

“I understand, Thorin. I really do.” The grey-haired advisor patted his shoulder. “And you deserve some time off.” He added. “I will keep an eye on things here.”

“I know you will.” Thorin stood up, making his headache worse. “I need some ale.” He grumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am so tired.”

“I know laddy, I know. Go get some rest. I will check up on the princes.”

“No, I will do that.” Thorin said as he stalked away.

Balin noticed that his shoulders were noticeably lower than usual. Shaking his head, he exited the other way, already thinking about having some ale himself.

* * *

 

“Kíli, Fíli!” Thorin knocked on his nephews´ door, patiently counting to three before he entered.

“Uncle!” Kíli yelped, jumping from the bed where Fíli laid with a cloth over his head.

“Is everything alright?” Thorin asked, craning his head to get a better view of his elder nephew.

“Yeah!” The brunette answered hastily, wringing his hands. “It´s just... a headache. Fíli just needs some rest. He just, overdid it a bit with the drinking last night.”

Thorin squinted his eyes. “You´ve been drinking again?”

“Sorry about that. I promise we will be more careful next time.” Kíli whispered, glancing at his brother nervously, dodging his uncle´s eyes.

Thorin sighed yet again, closing his eyes. “Fíli, are you alright?” He asked, not noticing Kíli´s increasing anxiety.

A faint “mm-hmm” echoed from the bed.

“I hope you will learn from your mistakes.”

“Mmmm.” Fíli moaned feebly, waving his hand at his uncle who just shook his head.

The king nodded to his younger nephew and exited the room.

“Are you alright?” Kíli asked as he jumped on the bed, taking the cloth off, revealing Fíli´s teary face.

“No, I am really not.” Fíli answered between sobs. “It´s getting worse. It´s like he is inside me. I can hear what he´s saying and feel what he feels.” The blond dwarf hiccupped, curling next to his brother. “It´s just so overwhelming.”

“Oh brother.” Kíli sighed. “I wish I could do something.”

“I know...” Fíli whispered, brokenly holding his brother´s hand.

* * *

 

Thorin made a be-line to his chambers, slammed the door closed and immediately pouring himself a pint of ale, downing it in one go.

He threw down his heavy furs and robes, stripped down to his pants and tunic only and fell backwards into the bed.

Not even in five minutes, there was someone knocking on the door.

“Enter!” Thorin ordered, not bothering to look who it was.

“You wanted to see me?” Dwalin asked as he scanned the room, taking notice of the king´s robes lying all around.

“Yes, I did.”

“I hope you didn´t call me to play with you in the sheets.” Dwalin teased, picking up the garments and dropping them unceremoniously on the armchair by the fireplace.

“You would be the last one I would think of if I wanted pleasure.” Thorin retorted deadpan.

“I am hurt.” Dwalin gasped in mock offence. “But seriously now, what do you need?” He asked.

“Pick the most trustful warriors. I am leaving.”

Dwalin frowned, tilting his head. “Leaving where?”

“I suffer without my sister.” Thorin siged, finally sitting up on the bed and gesturing to his friend to help himself in the liquor cabinet. “I am going to the Blue Mountains.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM! Thorin.. and yeah... you can guess what´ll happen in the next chapter!  
> Hope you don´t mind my little addition - the baby owls. I am just too obsessed with owls and I needed something to keep Smaug informed about stuff that´s going on in the world.  
> So sorry (not really).  
> I hope you enjoyed it. Dunno when I start writing the next chapter tho. Be patient! Shit is getting real and the plot thickens!!!  
> Comments are welcome. (Also, why the fuck did nobody tell me that I kept writing comments with one "m" till now?!)


	10. Eyes of Hatred, Eyes of Fright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited confrontation...or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I know it´s quite late but I had many things to do (problems in uni, dealing with people, getting food, etc...) I have to admit that this chapter was the hardest to write. It took me a loooong while to come up with a good way for them to meet but meh.  
> Crushing romantic ideals is my favourite hobby. I am sorry in advance:P  
> Anyway... I am so glad that you all like the little OC addition of owls (thank god!), thank you for all the compliments on my writing style (tho I still dunno what I´m doing, I thought I was shit at writing.... turns out that reading Tolkien helps very much!), sorry for the late replies, really! I have no idea how to return compliments.... or accept them... yeah I am a very awkward human being.  
> I noticed you "like" the cliffhangers.... good to know. There is a lot of them waiting for you in the future.... ehehehe.  
> Enjoy the chapter!
> 
> *Thanks Zayroen for beta-ing*  
> **Yaaaaay!! 10k hits!! *throws confetti**

It was really hard not to laugh at a fire drake, who willingly dives into water just to chase fish around.

Bilbo was sitting on a small sandy beach east of Blue Mountains, clutching his stomach and laughing at Smaug´s antics. He didn´t have to worry about any dwarves since they were on the other side of the mountain and in a place that was long forgotten by everyone.

They were far enough from the Gray Havens so the chance of stumbling upon an elf was also very small. They found a fine place to camp – a clearing in the forest, guarded by thick trees and bushes and few days later, Bilbo discovered a shortcut to a small rocky hill with a nice view on the distant havens.

He and Smaug went there every night to look at the shimmering light of the elven city.

They had a great time together. Smaug surprisingly spent half of the time in the ocean, looking for bigger creatures he could hunt or fight, bringing heaps of fish everytime he returned to the land. They spent the evening there either by sitting on the rocky hill, looking at the elven city or  catching fireflies and then they gazed at the stars until Bilbo fell asleep and Smaug carried him into their makeshift camp.

* * *

 

Bilbo was napping under a tree near the beach, waiting for Smaug to return when he felt a dull pain throb in his skull. Sitting up he glanced at the sea, looking for any signs of his dragon. He knew that feeling very well –  he felt it everytime when Beorn and Smaug fought and hunted. He felt the determination to win, the excitement from danger and the refusal to back down.

Smaug finally found something in the water that he could call an equal opponent. And Bilbo was just slightly afraid what it was. 

He stood up and walked closer to the water, squinting into distance, looking for the dragon. There was a slight thrash in the horizon and Bilbo had to climb a tree to properly see it. Bilbo caught a glimpse of what he thought was Smaug´s tail and shouted his dragon´s name subconsciously.

Climbing down the tree he run knee deep into the sea, yelling the name over and over. However Smaug assured him the fighting was only for fun and his scales are hard enough, Bilbo still couldn´t help but to worry about him. Partially because he, too, feels the pain, only not as intensively as Smaug does.

Bilbo sighed and tried to call out to his dragon through his mind.

Closing his eyes while trying to focus was not a good idea, though. When Bilbo opened them again he stood face to face a giant wave that basically appeared out of nowhere. The hobbit stood there frozen, staring at the giant wall of water coming at him with opened mouth and wide eyes.

“Take cover!!” Bilbo heard but he was too distracted and stunned by the wave to do something to hide.

A sudden blackness enveloped him and he let out an involuntary scream as he fell to the ground.

“What have you been thinking?!” Smaug rumbled as he uncurled himself from around his father. “Why were you just standing here, you could have been hurt, dummy!” He huffed, snatching up Bilbo, his large teeth clamping around the collar of his coat and carried him off towards their camp where he proceeded to fuss around the hobbit.

“What was that?” Bilbo asked, when he finally composed himself.

At least Smaug had the mind to look ashamed.

“I am listening!” Bilbo said, brows bumped together in a scowl.

“In my defence, the whale overreacted a little bit.” Smaug muttered sheepishly.

Bilbo´s eyebrows hit his hairline. “You´ve been swimming around, picking fights with whales, of all things? What if you got hurt and drowned?” Bilbo shouted, his voice breaking with hysteria. Smaug bowed his head and curled into a giant ball of shame.

“I´m sorry.” Smaug purred, dodging Bilbo´s eyes.

“Do you even think about how I would feel if I lost you? I don´t want to be lonely again!”

“Don´t be mad, daddy.” Smaug whispered and licked the tears off Bilbo´s face. The hobbit didn´t even notice when he started crying. He angrily rubbed his eyes.

“You are my everything. I can´t lose you.”

“I swear that you won´t. I will be more careful.” Smaug said and nuzzled his big head into Bilbo´s torso. “But the whale started it.”

Despite the tears, Bilbo burst out laughing.

* * *

 

“You lied to me.” Thorin grumbled from his seat, rubbing his forehead. “This is not relaxing at all.”

“But brother-dear, whatever is the matter? Do you not enjoy the _calm diplomatic discussions_ of our people?” Dís replied nonchalantly, throwing a grape into her mouth as she watched the verbal lashing of the dwarven chancellors and nobles.

“The only reason I came here is to get you back to Erebor and choose a new administrator for the Blue Mountains. An additional session about distribution of land is something I was not prepared to endure.”

“I will not go with you, unless you deal with this.” Dís smiled sweetly, draining her pint of ale. “Deal with it.” She ordered before standing up and excusing herself from the room.

Thorin sighed and downed his pint, ordering his servant to re-fill the cup again.

If they wanted their lands, they will get them.

Let the negotiations begin.

“SILENCE!” Thorin bellowed, slamming his fist against the table.

* * *

 

Five hours. He had to deal with greedy idiots for five forsaken hours. He felt like he was suffocating. Immediately after the finish he strode right to the stables, taking the fastest and strongest pony and left the city.

Thorin needed some time for himself. Without dwarves, politics or legal papers.

And it was a long time since he went riding just for pleasure. He decided that an evening spent by the sea is exactly what he needed.

From the corner of his eyes he saw a handful of Dwalin´s most trusted soldiers follow him, keeping a respectful distance, not risking to bring their king´s wrath upon themselves.

Thorin spurred the pony into a fast gallop.

He spied the first glimpses of the sea after an hour. He paused for a while, looking behind to check on the guards. The captain nodded silently, gesturing to the others to split and secure the woods – a sign that they will leave Thorin to himself once he reaches the beach but he will still be protected if something happened.

 He dismounted and walked to the beach, finally sighing in gladness. He walked towards the water, deeply inhaling the fresh ocean air. The sun was just starting to set, flooding the landscape in soft orange light.

Thorin crouched down, putting his tired hands into the salty water, rubbing them together. Another tired sigh tore from his mouth.

He walked on the beach for Mahal knows how long when he heard a soft laughter. Thorin looked around, looking for its source but found nothing. He stalked forward, straining his ears but he heard nothing. That is, until the wind blew, bringing the laugh again.

He kept walking, following the laugh. He knew he was very close for he could already discern some broken words.

Thorin peaked from behind a rock. There was a person crouching in the water, apparently holding a conversation with something in the water.

He carefully stalked forwards, his eyes not leaving the small crouching person.

His hands were suddenly very sweaty and his heart hammered in his chest but Thorin could not quite put why. It was as if his brain had not caught up with his sight.

He stood behind the person, staring at their back with mouth open and eyes wide. Thorin recognized him. Even from behind. He could never forget his golden curls or his voice – the sound of his nightmares.

“You?” He whispered. “It cannot be!”

He saw him froze. And when he turned around he saw the look of complete horror in his face.

“Burglar...” Thorin breathed, taking a step closer. He seemed so different – his hair was... odd, his eyes shone brighter than he remembered, not to mention his adornment. He looked almost like a dwarf in the crimson leather coat with furred collar.

The hobbit only shook his head and backed away. Thorin saw his hand edge towards the sword strapped on his hip and his own hand tingled, although he resisted the urge to reach for his blade.

“What are you doing here?” Thorin said, albeit a lot harshly than he intended.

The Halfling flinched but after a deep sigh he seemed to relax.

“I could ask you the same.” He answered. Thorin felt a sting of something that very much resembled excitement. How he remembered the halfling´s stubbornness and disregard of nobility.

Thorin took another step closer but this time the hobbit didn´t retreat.

Infuriation, anger and bitterness mixed with anticipation and full excitement. Thorin was confused by his own feelings but he carefully mastered a, hopefully, passive look.

“You took something precious from me.” The dwarf growled, clenching his fists. He was still too far away to catch the hobbit.

“Then we´re even.” The burglar answered, raising his chin defiantly.

_He is looking down on you._

_He´s mocking you._

_That traitor..._

Thorin mind raced and he didn´t even know how or when, he was suddenly holding Orcrist in his hand, pointing it at the hobbit.

The halfling took a deep shaky breath.

“No...” He heard him whisper, but his eyes were distant, looking past him. Thorin frowned. “No, stop!” The hobbit yelled turning suddenly around, gripping his head.

All Thorin´s questions were silenced and wiped off his mind when the water stirred and a giant golden-crimson dragon leapt from it, taking a defensive stance around the burglar. The water around the dragon´s blazing belly hissed and the hobbit was soon covered by a thick veil of steam.

Thorin felt as if all his worst nightmares came to life at once. Everything he dreaded now stood before him.

He thought he heard the hobbit´s protests but he also could´ve been wrong for the deafening roar that the wyrm emitted almost forced him to his knees.

He saw the hobbit climb on the dragon´s back. The reptile unfolded his wings and Thorin had to shield his eyes when the hot wind hit his face.

He was alone again.

Kneeling on the sand and catching his breath.

He didn´t hear the guards come and he didn´t hear his own thoughts.

The only thing he heard was the echo of the dragon´s roar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, romantic ideals crushed and burned to ashes.... I hope you like their little conversation! But seriously, if you thought I would make them throw themselves at each other and kiss you have never been so wrong in your lives....  
> Stay tuned for more drama and roasted dwarves!!!


	11. The Future of Erebor Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! I am sorry for the late post but my BetaReader is really, really, really busy!  
> There are few things I forgot to add in the last chapter so I´m going to straighten things up a little bit:
> 
> Almost 700 kudos! That is more than I ever dreamt the story will ever have and I am so thankful! I thank Angrylildwarf for drawing this beautiful pic for me; check it OUT! 
> 
> http://angrylildwarf.tumblr.com/post/74679554423/for-shaerahaeks-rhydwins-story-by-your-hand-c
> 
> Secondly I have not just sat idle until now! I have made this little gif: 
> 
> http://shaerahaek.tumblr.com/post/74652846368/evening-thilbo-feels-because-i-am-bored-and-also  
> But is it a spoiler? Is it not? Foreshadowing? Who knows... you will find out later *wink wink*  
> I just love to tease you guys.
> 
> So many of you (kind of) complained about the lack of dwarves.... Here! Have a dwarf chapter! Enjoy Thorin´s bath in desperation!
> 
> *Thank you! My busy beta Zayroen!*  
> **I have made a new cover too!! Bilbo is getting more and more mysterious!**

Thorin was kneeling on the cool sand, staring at the place where the dragon stood just moments ago with mind blank and mouth open. He couldn´t see, he couldn´t hear and he couldn´t make a sound.

A hand on his shoulder brought him to the reality, although he suspected it was a lot later than it should, judging by the face of the dwarf captain.

“My king! Thank Mahal you snapped out of it! I thought the beast put some kind of spell on you!” The captain said as he helped Thorin to stand up and dust him off. The other guards stood rooted to the ground not far away, looking around frantically with weapons drawn.

Thorin remained silent, much to the captain´s visible displeasure. The dwarf shook him carefully, quickly withdrawing his hands when Thorin looked his way.

“Are you alright, my liege?” The guard asked tentatively, his hands twitching and hovering around Thorin as if he was to faint any second.

“I am not.” The king answered silently. Of course he was not alright. He felt like he was thrown over 70 years into the past. His head was spinning and his ears hurt.

“My liege,” one of the other guards started awkwardly, shifting on his feet, “what-what are we going to do about the beast?”

Thorin looked at him for a long time – perceiving the short beard, wrinkles only from laughter and young eyes now filled with fright. The juvenile dwarf startled when Thorin approached him, bowing his head in shame.

The king put a heavy hand on his shoulder, making him look up.

“You do nothing.” He said, surprising the other dwarves. “You keep this a secret. If people knew they would panic and we don´t want that. Their nightmares are still fresh.” Thorin couldn´t hold in a heavy sigh. “I will deal with everything.”

“Your majesty?”

“I need you to forget what you saw today and keep it forgotten until I say otherwise.” Thorin said firmly. “The only thing you will focus on is to find Tharkún.”

“Yes sir!” The guards saluted and ran into the woods to retrieve their ponies, leaving their king with the captain behind.

“I´m listening.” Thorin murmured, not looking at the other dwarf.

“Forgive me, my liege, but...” the captain trailed off, visibly not sure with himself, “it-it wasn´t Smaug the fire-drake, was it? They said he lays dead on the floor of the Long Lake.”

A long while of silence followed the dwarf´s question.

“He is dead.” Thorin said, but he himself heard the doubt in his own words.

* * *

 

Dís was only a little disturbed when her brother stormed into his room, slammed the door closed and locked himself up.

She ordered her two most trusted servants to remain close to him and inform her of his every move.

Maybe she was more than little worried. After all, it was not usual for her brother to look like he saw a ghost...

And while Dís worried about him, Thorin stood in the middle of his room, spacing out.

He didn´t know what he really felt.

Was it happiness from seeing that the hobbit was still alive?

Was it sadness?

Fear from seeing the dragon alive?

Desire? Anger? Agony?

Perhaps it was all these feelings at once. Perhaps none of them. He felt dull. Old even, as if the age and sorrows have caught up on him suddenly. He was hurting all over. And he definitely needed something to make all the pain go away.

He opened up the liquor cabinet and brought up the strongest alcohol. Eyeing the pure fluid, he scoffed.  It all felt just like a bad dream. Maybe if he waited long enough he would wake up and all things that happened would be just his imagination.

Saddly, it was not true. He drank and drank, the mocking face of the burglar in his mind and sound of the dragon in his ears.

The sleep didn´t come. The liquor from his cabinet was gone and he still felt miserable.

The next day he woke up and announced his leave from Ered Luin, taking Dís along. His sister did not have the heart to refuse when she saw his tired face. Nobody questioned him. The lords scrambled away the second they saw him and the servants did everything without second thoughts.

* * *

 

The journey back to Erebor passed almost in complete silence. Thorin absently stared at the mane of his horse, trying his best to ignore everything that was going on around him. Dís tried to talk to him several times, but she gave up after Thorin replied with only humms and shrugs.

As the time passed the princess of Erebor grew more and more worried about her brother.

More and more whispers stirred every day but Thorin didn´t pay them any mind.

He was lost in his own thoughts and problems, he didn´t need to add more to them. He let Dís take care of the fools who dared to utter a single doubt or insult.

* * *

 

Arrival at Erebor didn´t turn out to be any better.

They were greeted by Balin and the members of Thorin´s not-really-trusted council; Kíli, who was wringing his tunic, looking anxiously everywhere but at Thorin and his sister; and Dwalin, who was stiffly standing behind his nervous nephew.

Only the lack of the crown prince finally made Thorin snap out of his trace.

Dismounting his pony and thrusting the reins into his servant´s hands, he strolled towards the group by the giant gate.

“Balin,” he greeted the oldest chancellor with a friendly pat on his shoulder and Dwalin with a nod of his head. His eyes fell upon his younger nephew who was just hugging Dís.

“Where´s Fíli?” He asked, noticing how Kíli´s shoulders tensed and his eyes fell to the ground. Balin was the one who spoke first.

“The prince is resting. He´s... not feeling well.” The dwarf said, also turning his sight at Kíli.

Thorin frowned. “Not feeling well? Is he sick?”

“No!” Kíli interrupted, surprising everyone with the sudden outburst. “No,” he repeated somewhat silently, shifting uneasily on his feet, still avoiding any eye contact, “he-he is just tired.”

Dís looked from her son to Balin, not really satisfied with the answer. “Is something wrong?” She asked, noticing her youngest son´s painful smile.

“He is just tired.” Kíli repeated, but he failed to conceal the panic and desperation in his voice.

Dís looked at her brother with eyes filled with worry.

“Kíli,” Thorin warned, making the younger prince flinch and bow his head even lower, “what is wrong?”

His nephew only shook his head and kept looking at the ground. Dwalin put his hand on the prince´s shoulder and squeezed in a friendly, calming manner. “It´s nothing.” Kíli whispered.

Dwalin sighed heavily and looked at his brother. Balin took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead.

“The thing is,” he began uneasily, “prince Fíli has fallen unconscious and cannot be woken.”

Dís´ mouth fell open as she tried to say something but the only sound she made was a soft pitiful mewl. Kíli spun around, flinching away from Dwalin as if the warrior´s hand on his shoulder burnt him and ran inside, leaving his wide eyed mother behind.

Thorin just stood rooted on the spot with a blank face faraway look. From the corner of his eye he saw her shake her head and take off after her younger son.

Another sigh from Balin told him that Fíli´s deep sleep was not the only problem he will have to deal with. He didn´t even try to say something, knowing his voice would surely betray him, so he just waited until someone drops the figurative bomb.

“In private.” Balin murmured and Thorin didn´t miss the look his Dwalin gave the other chancellors.

* * *

 

A soft knock echoed throughout his chamber and Dwalin entered, shaking his head.

Thorin didn´t know how long he has been locked inside his room, nor how much alcohol he has drunk.

“You look pathetic.” Dwalin commented silently as he helped him sit up on the bed and offered him a cup of clear water. Thorin downed it without a second thought.

“Dís sent me.” Dwalin said, taking off Thorin´s shirt. “She is worried.”

The king laughed at that, knowing that it was not really true. “When wasn´t she worried.” He mumbled, letting the cup fall onto the floor, shattering into pieces.  Dwalin tried his best to keep his mouth shut.

“Do you know how long have you been here?” The warrior said, gripping Thorin´s forearms. Thorin stared past him at the wall, not willing to acknowledge that he indeed woke up into the cruel reality. “What is wrong with you?! Have you forgotten that you have a kingdom to rule? Do you think that this attitude of yours will stop the people from badmouthing you and your line? Is it not enough that they doubt your eldest heir, do you want them to start doubting your rule as well?” Dwalin only barely maintained himself from shouting.

He let the king fall backwards onto the bed, grabbing the closest thing - which turned out to be a jug of water, and smashed it against the opposite wall. Thorin didn´t even bat an eye at that. With his back turned to his friend, Dwalin stood in the middle of the room, face covered with his palm, breathing heavily in attempt to calm his temper down.

“What is wrong with you?” Dwalin asked turning around when he finally cooled down. “The Thorin I know would not sit idle and drown his problems in alcohol like a coward! You have been like this since you came back from Ered Luin. And say something for Mahal´s sake!”

“What should I say?” Thorin asked silently, finally turning his eyes on Dwalin.

“You can´t be serious!” The warrior shook his head in disbelief.

“My nightmares came to life in the Blue Mountains.” The king whispered.

Dwalin raised his eyebrows, waiting for his friend to continue. After a short while of silence he gave up. “Look, I don´t usually know what you dream about so a little elaboration would help. You seriously act like you´ve seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I have...” Thorin mused, closing his eyes and sighing. “When I tell you that a civil war is the most merciful thing that could happen in the future, what would you reply?”

“That you are still drunk and then I would slap your kingly face. Wake up Thorin, do you know what a civil war could--”

“I wish I could wake up and find out that what I saw in the Blue Mountains was just a bad dream but I can´t!” The king interrupted him finally sitting up. “Do you remember what happened at the wall before the battle?”

“I remember you being gold-sick and banishing the burglar while screaming nonsense about dragons!” Dwalin shouted, his voice breaking with accusation and anger.

“Do you remember what the skin-changer told us?” Thorin asked almost in a whisper.

Dwalin dropped his gaze to the floor, gritting his teeth.

“Do you?”

“YES, I do.” The warrior half shouted. “He said the burglar is dead.”

Thorin stood up from the bed and crossed the distance between them in few long strides.

“He lied.” The king snarled.

* * *

 

“Fíli, wake up,” Kíli pleaded lying on the bed next to his unconscious brother. “Mum has returned and she is sad.”

The younger prince silently sobbed by his brother´s side. He knew he should tell someone but who would listen to him? They all believed Bilbo is dead, he just didn´t see any point in convincing anyone. People thought the line of Durin is failing as it is, he didn´t need to add more fuel to the rumours. He was afraid to tell anyone since it seemed that the walls of Erebor suddenly grew ears.

It pained him not to be able to do anything. He stayed with Fíli during the night, which he spent staring at the pale and unmoving face of his brother, begging him to wake up.

Just as he was losing his hope, Fíli finally stirred, startling Kíli so hard that he fell off the bed. The younger prince immediately jumped back on the bed and gently shook his brother by his shoulders.

“Kíli...” The crown prince rasped, sluggishly opening his eyes.

“Thank the Valar, you woke up! I was so worried!” The archer cried, burying his head in Fíli´s chest.

“Kíli,” Fíli repeated, tugging at the dwarf´s stray strand of hair to gain his attention. “Uncle, he...”

The archer sat up straighter, furrowing his brows.

“He knows...I saw.”

“Saw what? You had another vision?”

“He met him,” Fíli whispered, his hand gripping the side of his head.

“Met who?”

“Bilbo. He met him in Ered Luin.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOYA! So yeah.. Lemme know what you think of the art and the chapter! More coming as soon as my beta finds the time to read the 12th chapter, which is already written. Also I can announce with happiness that the 12 chapter finally contains some hints of Bagginshield! YES! We have come so far!! 
> 
> Anyway... Comments are welcome! Followers on Tumblr are also welcome.... new readers as well! Cheers!!


	12. It is not Fear you Feel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn´t wait to post this.... partially because I totally nailed the art (Yes, I am a smug fucking bitch and this is the first art I actually like)
> 
> Also contains first hits of Bagginshield!  
> Enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> *Thanks to Zayroen for beta-ing*  
> **I totally nailed the crown and I am proud of it**

Dwalin was a little bit worried at first. Thorin looked like he lost his mind and will to live only for few days after his arrival but after that short depressing period, he came back like a phoenix from ashes. Truth be told, Dwalin felt a little bit unsteady after Thorin´s comeback. The king was ruthless towards the contestants of the Line of Durin, wiping off all doubt and opposition in few months.

The bold rebels who openly acted against the crown were brought before the king, faced trial and were either thrown into the dungeons or, in worst cases, executed. The whispers which flew through the mountain with the wind stopped as quickly as one blew out a candle. Thorin´s rule was as effective and prosperous as never.

He knew there were still few groups of insurgents left, but they knew better than to start anything. Dwalin was afraid for the people at first, yet after they saw that their king did everything to maintain peace and prosperity of the mountain and cared for the well-being of the citizens, they supported his rule.

There were only few questions concerning the sudden recruitment, military training and armament but people brushed their concerns saying that their lord king is only taking precautions. Dwalin was not, however, so dismissive of Thorin´s unforeseen paranoia. Ever since their conversation in his chambers he was a little bit suspicious.

Dwalin decided to question the old but loyal captain, who accompanied Thorin during his trip to Ered Luin. He didn´t need Nori to get answers from the dwarf. Finding the dwarf was an easy task. Questioning him wasn’t hard either. The hard part came when Dwalin finally got his answers.

And boy, how he wished he didn´t ask.

Suddenly, the vision of a civil war really seemed a lot kinder than this.

* * *

 

Just when it seemed like things are going to be somewhat better with the uprising bottled up and the council on the leash, another scourge hit the line of Durin.

The message came unexpectedly, after a very tiring day of dealing with the court.

Óin came in after everybody left, catching Thorin alone on the throne, announcing that his elder heir has fallen asleep last night and hasn´t woken up yet even after the doctor´s many tries.

Thorin stayed silent till the end of that day, just sitting on the throne, his head bowed and the crown laying on the floor.

Balin was the one who found him there, or rather, forced his way in through the guards. Nothing he said made the king utter a word – he just sat there, glaring at the crown like it was a sin that should never have been made.

Only after Dís came in, falling to her knees at his feet, laying her head into his lap and crying her eyes out his angry facade broke.

“I´m sorry.” He said, hugging her and wiping the tears off her face.

They carried Fíli to the Stone Chambers, buried deep in the mountain. Dís changed her son´s clothes to a plain tunic and simple trousers, braided his hair into one simple plait and removed his hair beads. The whole walk down to the chamber awfully reminded Thorin of a funeral. His stomach turned and hurt everytime he gazed upon the motionless and pale face of his heir laying on the stretchers.

Just the single thought of this being an actual funeral made his heart skip a beat.

Kíli along with Dís stayed in the chamber for quite some time and in the end, only Dís returned when she was no longer able to look at her sleeping son.

It was quite surprising to find out that nobody in the whole mountain dared to utter a single word about the matter.

Dwalin noted that it was probably because the last person Thorin heard saying the crown prince was not worth the line of Durin was wiped off the surface of Middle-Earth without a trace.

The warrior also noted that Thorin turned into a living stone with every day that passed after the morning they found out about Fíli´s coma. Dwalin has never seen Thorin so stern and cold. The only time he could see a slip of emotion on his friend´s face was when he was talking to Dís or Kíli – and that wasn´t very often.

Dís silently mourned her son but she tried her hardest to help her brother with everything and comfort her younger son everytime he returned from the Stone Chamber.

Kíli was like a spectre – barely seen, walking the halls or Erebor in silence and secrecy.

Thorin did his best to conceal his mourning but the people saw through his cold facade and he earned his first unofficial title - “The Sad King.” Although all the cheer and good mood dissolved from the Lonely Mountain and the people dressed mainly in black, the place still prospered.

* * *

 

Dwalin decided he had enough of the depressing mood and busted into Thorin´s chambers, almost ripping the door off hinges. Thorin, as usual, didn´t even acknowledge his presence.

“We are getting drunk!” Dwalin proclaimed and smirked as Thorin finally raised his head from the papers.

Dís came to check on them three times for the racket they made and everytime she came in, they both just stopped whatever they were doing and stared at her like two scared owls.

They were in the middle of drinking the seventh keg when Dwalin finally got bold enough to ask Thorin why his laugh sounds so forced. The king´s face immediately twisted in a painful grimace. He downed the pint he was holding and let it fall on the floor. Realizing that he is treading a dangerous ground, Dwalin instantly sobered somewhat.

“You know,” Thorin started, staring into the flames in the fireplace, “it is always just about the Mountain - her people, their well-being, the prosperity, good trades and relationship with other kingdoms. I am tired.” He sighed, and Dwalin carefully put aside his own pint.

“I am old. My eldest heir is locked in the Stones and we don´t even know if he´s ever going to wake up. Kíli´s laugh is just a memory I barely remember. Dís is crying herself to sleep everyday and I can´t do anything to stop any of it. My own nightmares come to haunt me every night and however hard I try, I always see _him,_ clad in flames and dancing in the burnt ruins of Erebor with my crown in his hand. I hear his mocking laugh echo through the halls at night and it makes my sanity slip away bit by bit.”

Thorin took a deep breath and finally looked up at his silent friend. “I dread the day the bells start ringing. My people will not survive another dragon.”

Dwalin bowed his head but his silence didn´t last long. “He won´t come.” He said.

“How can you know that...”

“He doesn´t long for your gold, nor for revenge.” Dwalin uttered, standing up. “He doesn´t need to come. You are doing a great job at destroying yourself on your own. You are wrong, Thorin.” He said, putting a hand on the king´s shoulder. “You do not fear the day he crosses the gates of Erebor. You long for it.”

Thorin was just about to open his mouth to contradict Dwalin´s words when a loud vehement knocking on the door interrupted him.

“Enter!” He said, not breaking the eye-contact with Dwalin.

“My king!” The young soldier cried, catching his breath. “The guards say they spotted Tharkún heading towards the gates!”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are very welcome! Also a little poll:
> 
> a) Dwori  
> or  
> b) Dwalin/Dís
> 
> Which one would you like to see in the future?  
> And I regret to say that there will be minor OCs (two or so), for the sake of grilling and flambing... I need some antagonists!


	13. Brother´s Rage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the poll was quite clear about the pairing: I can gladly proclaim that there are definitely going to be some background Dwori scenes, + everybody was right when they said that Dís also deserves a little love - therefore there will also be some Dís & Dwalin instead of Dís/Dwalin. I hope it will meet all your wishes and expectations. As many people said: Dís already had her one. 
> 
> But anyway, another chapter and we´re sooo close to the Erebor arc!! Things are finally getting a little bit serious! 
> 
> ENJOY!
> 
> *Thanks Zayroen for beta-ing*  
> **Does anyone even read these notes?**

“Shouldn´t we call the council?” One of the guards asked Thorin as he sat on his throne, Balin on his right side and Dwalin left, trying very hard not to sway. After all, they were interrupted in their drinking not an hour ago.  Only the old captain and his few soldiers, whose mission was to find Gandalf, stood under the stairs in the throne room.

“Let the dogs sleep, we don’t need them to sniff around.” Thorin grumbled, carefully breathing in to control his spinning head.

„Gandalf.“ Thorin greeted but it sounded more like a threat than a greeting and the wizard definitely didn´t miss it.

“Greetings, king under the mountain,” Gandalf tipped his hat, almost in mockery, as he squinted at the dwarf. “Bad tidings have come to me lately.” He said gravely, glancing around as if looking for something.

“What would they be?” Thorin asked with disinterest.

Gandalf barely held himself from rolling his eyes.

“I heard many things, none of them play in your favour, King Thorin.”

Thorin smirked and let his head fall on his side. Dragging a hand down his face tiredly he sighed.

The grey wizard squinted and put his hand on his hip. “Are you drunk?”

“I may be...” The dwarf said, squinting at the grey-clad man before him in return. “I didn´t expect you to come so early.”

“The things I have been told are a serious matter, Thorin.”

“The irony of your choice of words. One would think you knew about everything, since you always did, like we learned before.”

“Careful, Thorin.” Gandalf warned, “I believe you have something to show me. Or rather someone.”

The reminder of his nephew instantly sobered Thorin´s mind. He nodded and stood up, swaying only slightly and stepping out to lead Gandalf to the Stones, Dwalin following closely behind.

Balin finally released the long-held sigh at the sight. If the situation wasn´t as grave as it was, he would have laughed at the two dwarves. But now, knowing what the king is going though and how he tries to cover his grief and frustration, only tears come into his eyes.

* * *

 

The first thing Gandalf noticed upon stepping into the Stone Chamber was the hunched body of Kíli sitting on the ground with Fíli´s head in his lap. Upon hearing the group entering, the boy looked up.

An unkind jab of guilt stabbed Gandalf´s heart at the sight of the brothers. Kíli was just as pale as his elder brother, his eyes veiled by darkness from grieving and most likely lack of sleep.

“Kíli,” Thorin spoke up silently, suddenly looking as if he had aged another hundred years. Kíli shook his head, knowing exactly what his uncle wanted to say but whatever Thorin did, he could not part the brothers.

Gandalf walked over to the young dwarf and knelt next to him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Let me see boy.”

The wizard put his other hand on Fíli´s forehead and closed his eyes, brow furrowing in concentration. Not even after a minute he jerked his hand away as if it was burnt and abruptly stood up.

“I cannot heal him.” Gandalf said, shaking his head, his eyes never leaving the unmoving prince.

All the dwarves stared in shock. Thorin was the first one to regain his speech.

“Tell me you are joking. Please,...” He breathed, closing his eyes.

The wizard shook his head again, looking at the prince. “The magic in his body is far too strong for me to undo it. You need to find the one who cast the spell on him.”

“But who? What... We haven´t met any other wizards, or conjurers or anyone of this kind.” Balin spoke up, looking at his brother for help, but the warrior only shrugged.

“I don´t think you are looking for a man...” Gandalf whispered to himself, gripping his staff somewhat tighter.

The wizard also didn´t miss the little panicked gasp Kíli made. The other dwarves were busy silently arguing, not even noticing the little sobs that wracked the younger prince´s body. Gandalf shushed them and turned back to Kíli.

“Boy, if you have something to say, rather say it now, until it´s too late.”

“What are you talking about wizard?” Thorin stepped in, looking between the man and his nephew with a frown on his face.

The younger prince was now openly crying, his big tears falling on his brother´s face.

“Kíli...?” He heard Thorin say when he hid his face in the crook of his elbow.

“I´m sorry! I´m so sorry! It is all my fault-“

“Nothing is your fault, boy,” Gandalf interrupted him, “just tell us what you know.” The wizard soothed, knowing deep down that his suspicions are soon going to be confirmed.

“It was Bilbo´s d-dragon who healed him! He was dying! They said he is as good as dead and he he-healed him!” Kíli sobbed, refusing to meet anyone´s eyes. At the mention of the hobbit´s name, all Thorin felt at the moment was overpowered by a sudden burst of anger and loathing.

“What?!” He growled harshly, making Kíli flinch. Dwalin immediately put his hand on the king´s shoulder in case he would do something he would regret later. “Why didn´t you tell me sooner?!”

“Exactly because of this!” Kíli cried, gesturing to Thorin. “Because of your wrath! Bilbo didn´t do anything! He always helped and yet you despised him! He always helped! And you threw him out!” The price yelled, breathing heavily. “Do you think I would just tell you he is alive after what you did to him?! You would hunt him down the second you knew about him!” Kíli finished, gasping between his sobs.

Thorin looked like he could throw himself at his nephew the second Dwalin would let his shoulder go but Gandalf stood between them, shielding Kíli.

“What have you been thinking all this time? Did you not care about your brother?!”

“I kept it secret BECAUSE I love my brother! But how could you understand!”

“Kíli,” Dwalin warned, worriedly glancing at the dwarf.

“Just admit it! You only ever cared about was the crown, gold and power! You cannot love! You cast away the only person who genuinely cared about you like a dirty rug and all he ever did was that he tried to open your eyes when they were closed behind a golden veil!”

The dwarf bowed his head, and as he caressed his brother´s hair he whispered: “You don´t even know how I hate you for that.”

What Kíli said left Thorin stunned on the place but after a while he spun around, jerking away from Dwalin´s grip on his shoulder and marched away without a word.

* * *

 

Gandalf invited himself into the king´s chamber only with a short knock. He opened the door, barely containing a deep sigh. The room was a complete mess, and in the middle of it, Thorin was sitting in a chair with his head in his hands. Gandalf closed the door and carefully avoided all the shards, books and things scattered across the floor.

“What your nephew said today was just the result of the fear he held inside until now and worry about his brother.” The wizard said silently.

“But he is right, isn´t he?” Thorin asked in whisper. “He´s right. And now Fíli is going to—“

“Nothing is going to happen to him.” Gandalf interrupted. “Not when you listen to me. Although you are not going to like what I am about to suggest...”

* * *

 

Kíli didn´t care it was the middle of the night, he didn´t care that he felt cold, he didn´t care about anything anymore. He just needed to run. And so he ran.

All the things he said were swirling in his mind, making it hurt, the tears stung in his eyes and his throat ached from the cold air.

When he finally stopped running he found himself in front of the door of the rookery upon the Ravenhill. He went inside, rubbing his eyes and blinking away the last tears.

The rookery was completely silent when he opened the door but the birds started to stir and wake up soon, croaking and murmuring soflty, wondering who disturbed their sleep.

Kíli sat down in the one cleanest corner, tucking his knees under his chin and waiting for some bird to fly to him. Soon enough few of the young and curious ravens flew over to him, gently pecking his arms and legs to cheer him up when they felt his sadness.

The young archer was petting a raven that settled itself on his knee when he noticed something on the window. Something that was definitely not a raven, nor a crow.

He carefully put the cuddly raven on the floor and walked over to the bird.

“Hello there,” he greeted, carefully extending his hand towards the wide eyed-owl. “What are you doing here?”

Kíli petted the owl´s head and looked around, noticing that the other birds did not approach.

“Are you lost?” He asked and the owl hooted in reply.

The young prince spent the whole night talking to the owl, telling it about his brother and Erebor and basically anything that came to his mind. The ravens settled back to their nests while he talked but he could see that almost all of them that woke up were listening. The little owl just stared at him, turning its head into impossible angles from time to time and hooting when he stopped stroking its head.

When the first rays of sun passed the window the owl unfolded it´s wings and flew away, leaving a sleeping Kíli behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo.... guess where the owl is going!
> 
> Such a bitter chapter, isn´t it... well.. it will be more bitter later.  
> I hope you guys still like it,
> 
> Comments are very welcome!!!!


	14. Stone can be Broken, Steel can be Bent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovely readers. I regret saying that I am taking a short pause from writing, since the school is starting for me again and we´re finally getting to the Erebor Ark. 
> 
> If my muse kicks in I will upload sooner (remember that your comments help me very much with the writing) but if she doesn´t, you will have to wait (perhaps just a week at most). 
> 
> Thank you for all your support and love!  
> Hope you will enjoy this chapter!
> 
> *Thank you, Zayroen, for correcting my BS*  
> **COMMENTS DO REALLY HELP ME WITH WRITING!**

They had a silent deal, that there will not be dwarves mentioned in the house as long as Bilbo is around. Even though Beorn had the tendency to utter an insult from time to time, which made Bilbo either start arguing or leave the house, he did his best to hold his tongue.

He was quite surprised when they returned from Ered Luin and the hobbit refused to say a word about their stay, while Smaug frowned and bit his tongue to keep silent. Beorn felt the fear and uneasiness around the hobbit just as he felt the rage and hate around the dragon.

Beorn´s house was filled with thick tension until the dragon decided to go against Bilbo´s silent pleas and told the skin-changer everything.

Bilbo and Beorn kept screaming at each other till the evening fell, while Smaug – now too big to fit through the door – laid on the floor with his head poked in the hall, boiling in his own guilt. After the long verbal lashing, Bilbo just strolled over Smaug, disappearing into the night to cry the long repressed frustration under the tree in the middle of the clearing where he loved to spend his afternoon naps.

Beorn left Smaug alone to his thoughts when he left to the exact opposite side of where the hobbit went – into the depths of the Mirkwood forest - changing into his bear-form and venting his own frustration on every unfortunate spider he found.

Smaug curled himself up in front of the house, staring into distance and trying to control his own rage and hate for the dwarves. He knew that Bilbo felt what he felt, just as he knew how much it hurt him. Smaug couldn´t understand why his father was holding back. Just one word from him would suffice and Smaug would have hunted the dwarf down and torn him to shreds. Smaug knew very well who he was – his scent was burnt into his memory from their first encounter.

The strange memories from his childhood made no sense but once he smelt the dwarf again, he remembered everything.

Especially his father´s murderer.

And the only reason why he was still holding back, is because Bilbo wants him to. He always taught him respect and love for other beings but he just couldn’t help but to feel repulsed by the dwarves. Now he finally understood Beorn´s hate for that race.

Three months passed since the big argument and the tension was still in the air, Beorn was still leaving into the woods everytime he even thought of the dwarves and Bilbo left the hall every evening to suffer in silence under the tree. Smaug spent the nights alone, boiling in the hate for the cruel dwarves.

But despite all the negative feelings towards them, his thoughts kept straying to two particular scents he remembered. He caught Bilbo lost in fond memories once or twice, thinking of the people he connected the scents with but his own memories stayed foggy. It was a feeling he could never understand or explain to his father so he let it slide.

He was brought back from his thinking by a soft pecking on his brow.

He looked up, crossing his eyes just to find one of his own adopted babies seated on his head. Gently shaking his head, he forced the owl to jump down so he could sniff it.

The scent and message the owl carried was enough to made him very curious.

* * *

 

Bilbo felt very tired since his last encounter with Thorin. He spent every day thinking of him until the frustration became unbearable and he had to scream his lungs out and punch the tree once or twice. Or maybe more times. He was so infuriated with him. How could he ever think he would forget him.

He hid his face in his palm and bit his tongue to keep him from screaming. His melancholic solitude, however, was soon interrupted by Smaug.

“Father!” He cried, flying down next to him. “Father we need to go to Erebor!”

“Smaug, if this is some kind of sick joke, it really is not funny.” Bilbo said, rubbing his brow.

“No, no! I am not joking! Tylluan, my owl came back!”

Bilbo just eyed the dragon like he grew a second head.

“I, um... might have sent an owl after the dwarves,” the dragon mumbled, looking everywhere but at Bilbo, “and it brought me...different news than I expected. But that´s not important.”

“ _It is not important?!”_ The hobbit asked, his eyebrows almost hitting his hairline, “what have you been thinking? Did I not tell you, you should let them be?” Smaug felt spike of anger and disappointment in his father´s mind but he did not step back this time.

“Father, listen!” The dragon said, straightening up and surprising both him and Bilbo with the steadiness of his voice. “I will not deny that I hate dwarves, but I know you care about them. I remember someone from the time when the land was drenched in blood. You cared about them and now they are dying.”

Bilbo immediately sobered up from the shock and stood up. “Dying? But who could –“

“I cannot explain it. Tylly carried the scent I remember. He said a fatherless boy whose brother sleeps in the stones. I just have the feeling I know him, and you do too.”

The hobbit just stared at the dragon with his mouth open. Could it be...? “Did he say anything else? Anything at all?”

“Tylly also said he saw a gray man on a white horse heading this way.” Smaug added uncertainly.

The dragon watched as his father´s head snapped in his direction, eyes bulged and mouth opening even wider. Bilbo ran towards him, climbing on his back and seating himself between his wings.

“Go!” The hobbit cried, urging him to fly. “Take me where the gray man is!”

* * *

 

They only stopped at Beorn´s house for Bilbo´s coat and sword, waking up and startling the three owls perched on the wooden beam near the fireplace.

They were half way over Mirkwood when Bilbo – even despite the loud whistling noise – heard Beorn´s mighty roar. The only answer he got was Smaug´s roar in return and a yell of “Don´t follow!” from Bilbo.

He thought that Smaug was flying as fast as he could but he was proven wrong when the dragon sped up even more.

After an hour, Bilbo could see Lake-Town in the distance and a little white spot travelling towards them.

He nudged Smaug, pointing below when the dragon glanced behind, silently giving him the order to fly down towards the white spot.

* * *

 

Gandalf felt a bit uneasy when he spotted the crimson-gold dragon above the forest. He felt even more disturbed when the dragon started descending, very much looking like it was right at him.

He stopped the horse, uncertain what to do when he noticed a waving person atop the dragon´s back. The giant wyrm dropped down in front of him, shaking the ground all around. His long neck was gracefully bowed downwards, wings half-folded and golden eyes fastened upon him.

No rumours or warnings or good feelings were enough to calm him down. Not even the small hobbit he knew for a long time didn´t manage to prevent his hand from reaching towards the hilt of his sword. A soft growl from the dragon made him retract the hand almost immediately.

“Gandalf,” Bilbo greeted, straightening his back and cloak.

“Bilbo, so it is you after all!” Gandalf said carefully, glancing from the dragon to the hobbit. “I was looking for you.”

“What a coincidence!” Bilbo said and Gandalf didn´t miss the sarcasm carefully hidden in his voice.

“What a coincidence, indeed,” the wizard mumbled, finally turning his whole attention on his little friend.

“I believe you are coming from Erebor.”

“You are right, my friend. Erebor needs your help.” The wizard proclaimed solemnly, watching as the hobbit´s brows twitched into a frown, betraying his carefully nonchalant facade.

“Does it?” Bilbo asked sceptically, “or does its king?” The hobbit was now openly frowning. 

“Both, my dear fellow, both. More precisely, they need the dragon´s help.”

“Why would I want to help him who threatened and banished me for helping?”

“Won´t you let your dragon answer?”

“He will give you the same answer.” Bilbo said coldly. “What is the reason for him seeking my help?”

Gandalf had a very bad feeling suddenly. He assumed the hobbit would be different after what happened to him but he definitely didn´t imagine the changes would be this severe. He was right when he said that Bilbo would not be the same hobbit he once was and now he fully regretted his words.

The darkness and woe in the hobbit´s eyes was darker and deeper than he ever dared to guess.

“The crown prince suffers,” Gandalf finally said, letting out a little relieved sigh when Bilbo´s cold gaze faltered, “and the only one who can cure him was the one who´s magic saved him from a certain death.”

A long uncomfortable pause followed the wizard´s words but he did not dare to break it. He watched Bilbo´s cold face crumbled into a pained grimace.

“So it´s true.” Bilbo sighed, petting the dragon´s long neck while the wyrm silently whined. “Have we doomed another life?” He asked in whisper. It took him a short while to compose himself again and after a deep breath he asked:

“I will save the prince only when the king bows his head and asks forgiveness for his deeds.”

Gandalf bowed his head, turning his horse around to face the Lonely Mountain. “The king´s back is made of stone and steel, would you really let _him_ die?” He asked, dreading the answer that was to come.

“Stone can be crushed and steel bent. You are asking the wrong question, Gandalf. You should be asking if the king would let his own heir die for his pride. I am not his subject, he cannot make me do anything.”

“You have changed, Bilbo Baggins...” Gandalf uttered unhappily, glancing behind. “Thorin suffered enough, don´t do this to him.”

“And he will suffer more for what he´s done.” Bilbo spat back, turning his chin up in defiance. “Someone has to teach him to suffer the consequences.”

Bilbo´s lofty and cruel mask fell off when he calmed down and Gandalf didn´t need to turn around to see the change. “But you are right,” he added silently, eyes set upon the mountain in the distance, “I will not let him die just because of Thorin´s pride. That doesn´t mean I can´t enjoy the king´s torment. I will make him bow, even if I have to break him.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, Bilbo sounds rather cruel, doesn´t he. Don´t you worry, folks, as I said before: Bilbo is still the cute cuddly muffin. He just caught a little temper from his dwarvish friend Thorin. Well, they are going to have a big argument very soon. 
> 
> The Erebor ark starts with the next chapter! I have to admit that this was supposed to be like just a 12 chapter story at most. Looks like I´m not gonna finish it anytime soon. After all, this IS a Thilbo fanfic... the best parts are yet to come!
> 
> Anyway, remember that I am probably taking a short pause and that all your comments are very welcome!


	15. Sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Erebor Arc begins....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the most difficult chapter I have ever written. I shit you not! I was so looking forward to do this one, but when it came to the actual writing, I was just done. Thanks to my lovely beta Zayroen I was able to rise again from the ashes and finish this and I hope it will be to your liking. 
> 
> With this chapter I officially move to the Erebor Arc, where the real Bagginshield begins. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

Bilbo stood before the gates of Erebor in silence, while Gandalf conversed with the guards, telling them to let the king know of their arrival. Of course, when the guard asked about Bilbo´s identity, Gandalf brushed him off with a riddle that basically said: “it is none of your business and the king will have your head if you don´t let us through.”

Bilbo wasn´t sure about what he really heard the wizard say but he couldn´t care less. His eyes and mind were set on the wall above the gate – the place where everything ended and began anew.

His eyes watched but didn´t see and all he could hear were Thorin´s angry words and cries of the newborn dragon. The most ironic thing was that he felt nothing – no rage, no sadness, no fear. He simply felt dull.

A gentle hand on his shoulder brought him back from the bitter memories. He looked over at Gandalf, who smiled at him, although somewhat painfully. After a small nod from the tall man they marched inside the shadow of the Mountain.

* * *

Upon hearing of the wizard´s arrival, Thorin immediately cancelled the council meeting that was currently going on and ran to the throne room, silently repeating to himself to stay calm and rational. He sat on the stony throne with back straight and head high. Even despite the silent chants and deep, hopefully discreet, breaths he couldn’t calm his racing heart and trembling hands. He constantly reminded himself that it is for his sister-sons – the only sons he will ever have.

Thorin clenched his fists painfully and bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. His body suddenly felt too hot.

He didn´t care that the throne room was slowly being filled with curious dwarves, he didn´t perceive the whispers and rumours going around the hall and he didn´t acknowledge or answer the questioning looks the members of the company regarded him with.

He only saw the gate in front of him and heard the breath of his younger nephew, who stood at his right despite their previous verbal lashing.

When the gate opened and revealed the newcomers, Thorin wasn´t sure whether it was the entire hall that fell into utter and deafening silence, or it was his ears that failed to hear any sound.

Thorin´s entire body went stiff when he met the eyes of the hobbit - the eyes that haunted his dreams almost every night since their meeting in Ered Luin.

The veil of deafening silence was miraculously lifted when a few gasps echoed throughout the hall. Thorin did not doubt that they came from the members of the company.

“Uncle, please!” A soft whisper came from his right and Thorin realised that he was glaring at the hobbit, probably looking like he would jump him the very moment. Dwalin confirmed his thoughts with a silent cough.

“Hail Thorin, King under the Mountain.” Gandalf greeted, breaking the silence, as well as attempting to draw Thorin´s attention at himself – only without success. Thorin kept glaring at Bilbo, who returned the look with a cold and callous stare. The king was forced to look away when the shaky hand of his nephew squeezed his shoulder.

Thorin repressed a sigh and when he finally resolved to speak, Kíli beat him to it.

“Will you heal him Bilbo?” He asked, despair and weariness clear in his voice.

Bilbo calmly blinked the cold look away and glanced from the king at the prince with much kinder expression. His voice, however, lacked the emotion his face showed.

“I will.” He proclaimed, ignoring the stares. “I have come to heal the crown prince as you wished,” he said.

The vicious wave of murmur that flooded the throne room immediately after the hobbit finished his sentence sent Dwalin into a small panic attack.

“I heard of your pleas, Kíli,” Bilbo spoke up, staring into Thorin´s eyes, “but what of the king? Will he bow his head and humbly ask for my help as well?” The sarcasm in his voice was an unpleasant jab at Thorin´s pride.

The younger prince let out a silent whine and Thorin clenched his fists and teeth even harder. Gandalf shifted uneasily at the spot, seeking help in Balin but the latter was shaking his head in panic and worry, and Gandalf knew that the things would escalate rather quickly if he didn´t intercede.

“You want me to beg?” Thorin growled, silencing the crowd´s whispers.

“I do, yes. But a better question would be: what are you prepared to sacrifice for your nephew´s life?”

“Anything.” Thorin´s answered, not wavering.

“Really now. Anything at all?” Bilbo asked, smirking to himself as he looked around the hall. “How about your precious gold? Would you give that away?”

“I would.”

Everyone in the room was staring at the king like he had grown a second head. Kíli especially.

“Uncle...” The young dwarf whispered. Thorin looked into his teary eyes and nodded, turning back at the hobbit. 

Bilbo´s smirk widened as he stepped forward, stretching out his hand. “Step down from the throne and give me your crown.”

The vast majority of the hall was gasping and protesting, some of the dwarves even started yelling obscenities at the hobbit and the guards were not sure what they should do. Dwalin, Balin and Kíli were stunned into silence and Gandalf shifted from foot to foot, frowning at Bilbo with worry.

“SILENCE!” Thorin bellowed, smashing his fist against the stony armrest. “The crown is a symbol of my rule. Would you have me take it off and renounce my kingship, leaving the mountain without a ruler and in shambles?”

“I want you to take it off and beg for my help as a dwarf you once were. A mere blacksmith I once travelled with. Can you throw away your pride for their sake?” Bilbo asked, gesturing at Kíli.

The previous clamour of the room turned into utter silence as the king stood up. He inhaled deeply, prepared to confront the hobbit standing only few meters away but whatever he had to say was interrupted by the whistling of a flying arrow and a feminine cry.

He heard a dull thud accompanied by Bilbo´s pained gasp, and watched the hobbit stumble and fall to his knees, his right hand hovering over the tip of the arrow that stuck out under his left collar bone.

Thorin watched in horror as Bilbo´s blood poured on the cold floor, yet his body did not move.

Dwalin was running towards the side door, yelling at the guards to find and seize the assassin when the ground shook and everything was drowned by a deafening roar.

The warning bells rung but Thorin knew it was already too late.

The front gate was broken and thrown down and from the stone and dust, a golden-red dragon emerged, howling in fury and hate. The dragon jumped inside, sniffing the air and baring its teeth.

The wyrm sharply turned his head to its right, releasing another vicious roar. Thorin followed its eyes and noticed the small cloaked figure in one of the balconies. The dragon surged forward at the dwarf but it froze on the spot with its mouth open, just inches from its prey.

Only Thorin and Gandalf heard Bilbo´s soft warning – the reason why the dragon stopped.

Cries of horror and panic echoed from every direction, dwarves ran as fast as they could, shoved and stepped over each other, not taking any heed of other than themselves. The worst were the cries of children that reminded Thorin of Dís´ when he carried her away from their home.

This was worse than he could ever imagine, and nothing could have prepared him for the hell that repeated itself at this very moment.

There were few dwarves who stayed in the hall - the few who got stepped over or knocked out and their families, who despite the evident fear did not leave them behind; those paralyzed by fear or just resignation; and the handful of most loyal guards and the company that stayed to protect the king.  It all suddenly felt so surreal – as if it was just one bad dream from which he could no matter what wake. He couldn´t even hear Balin´s shouts – probably aimed at him – he could only see from the corner of his eye how the dwarf´s panicked and slightly angry face and his moving mouth.

In his mind he was panicking and unable to sort out his thoughts. He stood rooted to the ground, staring at Bilbo with his mouth slightly agape, watching as the hobbit´s blood slowly dripped to the floor, creating a small crimson pool around him.

Another punch to his gut came when the hobbit carefully stood up, reached over his shoulder and gripped the arrow. With one jerk he broke the shaft off and threw it on the floor. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved of terrified at the sight, but he couldn´t care less at the moment.

A shiver ran down Thorin´s spine when Bilbo looked up at him with not blue, but golden eyes.

“I have not done anything to you and yet you greet me with a bow and arrow.” Bilbo said silently, letting out a shaky breath, swaying slightly as he shook his head.

“No..!” Thorin gasped, taking a step forward. “No, I did not know about this!” He protested somewhat angrily but Bilbo was already turning away from him, looking back at the balcony with the trapped archer.

“Not now,” Gandalf finally interrupted, taking one step away from Bilbo and waving his hand at Thorin to emphasize warning. “I think there is much you two have to talk about. Not here and not now, though. Bilbo.” Gandalf called when he realized that the hobbit did not listen to him.

Bilbo watched the few brave guards with Dwalin at their front slowly approach part of the balcony where the assassin was.

“Smaug.” He called, making the dragon lower his head and climb down. The guards seized the attacker and waited for Thorin´s order. In that very second, the first division of the king´s armies charged in, prepared for an assault on the dragon but their advance was promptly stopped when Smaug crouched down and roared, his belly heated and glowing with fire. The hobbit turned around, crying out in protest but the bloodloss took its toll and he would have fallen over if it wasn´t for Kíli, who dashed after him and caught him in the last second.

Bilbo´s fatigue was some kind of trigger for the company to snap out of their shock and they finally ran forward to the throne, talking over each other, visibly confused with the recent events.

“Please, stop!” Kíli yelled. “Everybody just stop!”

His hysteric cries proved to be the most effective way to silence everyone and gain their attention.

“Just, please, don´t take the only hope of healing my brother away from me! Help him!”

Thorin seemed to finally snap out of the perplexity of the situation and stepped in.  

“Nobody touches neither the dragon, nor the hobbit! Bring that dwarf to me!” He called and Dwalin dragged the assassin before him and shoved him onto the ground. “Hold him in place!” Thorin ordered and turned his attention on the army division, slowly edging toward the crimson and very upset wyrm.

“Stop! Do not touch the dragon! Your help is needed outside! Go assist the people and calm them down! I will speak to them as soon as I can.”

He glanced at the hobbit, searching for anything that could assure him the dragon will not be a threat to his people. Bilbo returned his look with a small nod and Thorin felt butterflies in his stomach as he realized that even after all they went through, a single look was all they needed to know what the other was thinking.

“GO!” Thorin yelled and the soldiers left, although few of them – mainly the younger ones - kept lingering inside for a while.

“Justify your actions.” The king ordered, turning his attention back at the assassin in disgust and fury.

The assassin only grinned and spat on the floor. “The reign of your line has ended, mad king!” He snarled. “You can´t stop us! You cannot stop the rebellion! Have fun finding out what poison it was.” The dwarf laughed and looked over at the panting and deathly pale hobbit in Kíli´s arms.

“Throw him into the dungeons! I will question him myself.” Thorin ordered.

“No!” Bilbo growled in between the gasps as he stood up, gently pushing Kíli away and straightening his back.

“How can you still stand?!” The dwarf on the ground asked, visibly panicking. One spiteful look from Bilbo silenced his further comments.

“His life is mine.” Bilbo growled, not wavering. “Smaug!” He called and before anyone could react any way, the dragon snatched the dwarf and carried him out of the mountain, disappearing Eru knows where.

“You cannot take him! He is a part of the rebellion and we need to question him.”

“I think there are few things we need to clarify first. I will keep the dwarf for now. When you´re done with your speech and assure the safety of my dragon, we can start dealing with things like assassins and rebellion. I suggest you calm them quickly.” Bilbo offered coldly, jerking his head towards the broken gates, drawing the king´s attention back to the somewhat subdued cries from outside. “I was under the impression that your heir is dying. Take care of things promptly.” Bilbo finished, slapping away Oin´s hand away as he reached out for the arrow wedged under his collar bone.

Thorin strolled forward, leaving his company and the hobbit behind, not giving Bilbo a second look. He heard the company´s fussing around him, pleading him to let them look at the arrow wound but he kept striding outside. He was almost by the gate, Balin and Dwalin at his side, when the urge to look back finally overwhelmed him.

He turned his head just in time to catch a sight of Bilbo swaying and falling into Bofur´s arms.

“They´ll take care of him.” He heard Dwalin say.

“As if I care.” Thorin murmured stubbornly, adjusting his furs and robes.

The last thing he heard before he was greeted by a sea of very panicked and unhappy populace of the entire mountain, was Dwalin´s humourless laugh and Balin´s exasperated sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would be very nice. So I know that I haven´t fucked up too much. 
> 
> Guess what´s comming next time! *wink wink*  
> Hint: Yeah, it´s the big argument everybody´s been waiting for!
> 
> But seriously.... comment my lovelies! I will be very thankful!


	16. By Your Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it seems I´ll be uplading once every week, since the uni is a pain in ass and my muse is blocked.... Good news is, I´m already done with the first half of the next chapter.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> *Thanks Zayroen, for checking the plot**  
> **Thank you my dear Szabi, for bitching at me every minute and giving me nice ideas and also correcting my grammar mistakes***

Thorin expected many things. He expected crooked looks, whispers, disputes, riots or maybe even assaults on his person. None of those things happened. When he stepped out and spoke to the people, declaring that the dragon would not harm anyone unless provoked, they only stared at him with amazement and disbelief. He spoke of the unsuccessful assassination – omitting certain things because he wasn’t sure whether it was him who was to be killed or the hobbit – and declaring the death threat on any other people who would pose a threat for the Durin Line.

He may or may not have had a little heart-attack as the dragon suddenly returned, perched himself Mahal knows how on the wall above him and dropped the passed out assassin to his feet. He expected screams and fleeing dwarves, but he was only met with gasps and amazement when the wyrm only hung there behind him, looking at Thorin as if he waited only for him to keep talking.

For a second, Thorin was afraid that the dragon would change his mind and burn him into a cinder, but the dwarf managed to swallow his fear and continued talking even though he barely heard what he said because of the rapid beating of his heart.

When he was done, he turned around and even though his knees were shaking he managed to look as kingly as ever and walked under the dragon looking unfazed.

He quickened his step, trying not to think about the mess around him. As he was passing the throne room, Dwalin stopped him, asking him if they should do something about the abducted assassin.

“And what do you want to do?” Thorin asked sarcastically, “argue with a dragon?”

Dwalin shrugged and shook his bold head.

“I will talk with Bilbo.”

“Are you sure it will be only a talk?”

“What do you mean.” Thorin asked, pretending not to hear the suspicion in his friend´s voice.

 “You know very well what I mean. Should I be standing behind your door and wait till you two start ripping each other´s hair out, or will you be able to control yourself?”

“Why is it always my fault?”

Dwalin replied with a meaningful look and Thorin sighed, reaching to put down the heavy crown from his head. He held the crown, gazing at it unhappily.

“You won´t need to—“ He started but was interrupted as a group of physicians rushed by, one of them bumping into him and knocking the crown out of his hands.

The dwarf gasped and bowed, repeating his apologies over and over while he hurried away to pick the crown up.

Dwalin and Thorin, meanwhile, shared an unimpressed look. The medic rushed back, holding the crown up for Thorin to take it, still apologizing. Thorin took it, dismissing the dwarf with a wave of his hand and a nod of his head.

* * *

 

However, once he turned back to Dwalin and looked at the crown properly, he froze and almost dropped it back on the ground.

His mind replayed the nightmare he dreamt about the most as he stared at the bloodied circlet in his hands. A sudden bad feeling churned in his stomach when he looked around the room and spotted the pool of Bilbo´s blood by the steps leading to the throne.

He took a deep breath and turned around. “Get the guards who travelled with me to Ered Luin. I think you should keep a watch by the door. Just to...” He trailed off, biting his lip and trying to wipe the blood off the crown, albeit unsuccessfully.

“Yes, Thorin.” Dwalin replied silently, bowing. After Thorin walked off, he ran down to the dungeons to gather the 5 guards and headed to the king´s quarters.

* * *

 

 Bilbo sat on the big soft armchair with bared torso, biting a stick and trying not to wince or scream, while Oin tried to wrestle the arrow out of his body. The other members except Dori, who was entrusted with cleaning the wound, were sent away by the grumpy healer.

Although, however hard Oin tried to pull it out, it just wouldn’t budge. By the third time Oin repeated the pull, Bilbo let the stick go and screamed his lungs out.

“Just pull it out,” Bilbo screamed, “and don´t let go, just get it out!” He yelled, slamming his right fist against the armrest.

“Let me see.” Dori piped in, awkwardly shuffling on the spot. Oin nodded and let the younger dwarf step closer. “Sorry.” He whispered as he propped his foot against the hobbit´s triceps and grabbed the tip of the arrow.

“Do it on the first try.” Bilbo added quickly, drawing a deep breath.

Another scream ripped itself from Bilbo´s throat as Dori pulled. With a sickening crack the arrow finally gave in and came out. Dori flew backwards, falling on his rear and Bilbo kept screaming his lungs out, while Oin quickly covered his eyes with a cold cloth and poured some foul smelling liquid on the opened wound.

The hobbit immediately slapped the healer´s hand away, knocking the bottle out of his grasp.

“NO!” Bilbo cried, covering the wound with his palm and shaking his head. “Leave it be. It will heal.”

“Be reasonable, laddie. It is for your own good.” Oin argued, frowning at him. “Dori, hold him down, please.” He asked the younger dwarf, who was still sitting on the floor, holding the bloodied arrow in his hand.

“No, you don´t understand!” Bilbo said between gasps. “It will heal on its own. Just give me few minutes.”

“The poison is still—“

“Just leave it be!” Bilbo argued. “Look!” He removed his hand from the wound. “It´s good.”

Oin stared at the wound with a horrified frown. Even though the hobbit´s upper left side was angry red and the flesh around the injury was starting to blacken, the actual wound was already closed.

“How—?” Oin stammered and Dori looked like his eyes are going to pop out of his eyesockets.

“Not now.” Bilbo said as calmly as possible, slowly standing up and looking around the room. He shuffled past the two dumbstruck dwarves, reaching for his ruined coat. Dori snapped out of his shock first and gently grabbed Bilbo´s elbow to support his weakened and violently trembling body.

“I just need a second...” He mumbled almost incoherently, reaching for the coat but missing it as his vision blurred and legs gave up. Thankfully, Dori managed to catch him before he hit the floor.

“The coat... give me... please.” He pleaded, trying to stand up, his hand still reaching for the item.

Dori just silently covered his shoulders with the coat, helping him to sit into the armchair again.

 “Just leave, please.” Bilbo whispered as he covered the left side of his face with the fluffy white fur.

The two dwarves looked at each other in worry, but did what he asked and left, closing the big oaken door of Thorin´s chambers with a loud dooming thud.

Bilbo didn´t need them to goggle at him while his body healed. He had enough as it was – the weird and freaked out looks they gave him when they saw his eyes.

* * *

 

Thorin stopped in his track when he heard the hushed argument the company held in front of his chamber. He slowly and silently edged closer to the corner, trying to eavesdrop without being noticed.

“But how is that possible?!” He heard. Probably Gloin, he wasn´t too sure.

“How are we supposed to know?! I didn´t even know he was alive until today!” Oin grumbled loudly and was immediately shushed by the others.

“Be quieter, for Mahal´s sake!” Bofur whispered harshly, probably slapping his forehead by the sound of it. “We don´t need the whole mountain to know!”

“So what are we going to do? He won´t let us in!” Dori fussed.

“We do nothing! If he says he needs to be alone then we stay here. And wait for him to let us in.” Bofur whispered back.

“But--!”

“I´ll talk to him.” Thorin announced, stepping from behind the corner. Everybody jumped in surprise and looked at him, and even though most of them looked like they had something to say, they kept their mouths shut.

“I´m sure you have better things to do than loiter around my door.” The king said, reaching for the door handle.

“Yes, my liege.” Bofur replied, his voice laced with suspicion and accusation. Thorin ignored it, waiting until the dwarves leave, and when he spotted Dwalin strolling around the corner with the guards in his tow, he finally entered.

* * *

 

The first thing he noticed was the bowl of red water, the coppery smell of blood in the air and the half of the arrow lying on the floor by the table. He stood by the door in silence for a while, unsure what to do.

The room seemed to be empty, but he knew the hobbit was still there - sitting in his armchair, which faced the opposite wall.

He heard his deep breaths.

Thorin stepped closer, holding his breath.

“Your people think highly of you now,” he heard Bilbo say, “O, Thorin the dragon-tamer!” He mocked.

“I took a leap of faith...”

“You sure did. Claiming the dragon won´t harm anyone.” Bilbo said, standing up and turning around to face the dwarf.

“Are you alright?” Thorin asked, averting his eyes from Bilbo´s golden ones. There was something about that golden hue that made him unable to hold the eye contact.

“Oh, now you are concerned about my well-being? How odd.” Bilbo said with spite. “Did you have a change of heart after your nephew fell ill? Or are you just playing a good dwarf so I would heal him? Which one is it?”

“Neither,” Thorin said, not wavering, “I came to apologize. And ask for your help.”

That caught Bilbo´s attention. “Really? I am listening.”

“I am sorry for my inadequate behaviour in the throne room, as well as for you being hurt because of the ongoing revolts against the crown. I will try to prevent further incidents like these in the future, if you allow me to secure you with my most trusted guards.” Thorin finished, huffing out a deep breath to calm himself down. “My nephew has fallen into a deep sleep few days ago and none of our healers can wake him up. I fear for his life and I would give anything away just to keep him alive. I heard you had the power to heal him. So I´m asking you, begging you, please, heal him.” He looked the hobbit in the eye and waited for his reaction.

His reaction, however, was something he would not think the hobbit was capable of.

Bilbo burst out laughing. The dwarf stood there dumbstruck, watching as Bilbo laughs right into his face with a slightly maniacal laugh.

For a long while he just gaped at him, listening to the sick laugher. However hard he tried, this time he really couldn´t hold back his anger.

“Did I say anything funny?” Thorin growled, clenching his fists. “I apologized, I took down my crown and came to you as you requested, asking for saving Fíli´s life and yet you laugh at me. Do you really want Durin´s crown? The gold of Erebor? Have it! I care not! Just save him! It is all I ask!” He yelled, and wanted to say more but Bilbo´s sudden angry outburst stopped him.

“After all these years...” Bilbo said in half whisper, shaking his head at the dwarf in disbelief. “You are so pathetic,” he spat, taking a step closer. “Your crown? You really think I would like to have your crown? Gold? There is nothing in this entire mountain you could give me, Thorin Oakenshield! There is nothing in this mountain that could pardon your sins!”

“What sins have I commited to offend you so? I had the right to be angry after you broke the King´s Jewel. Yet I admit that hitting you was not—“

“Hitting me?” Bilbo breathed, his body shaking with rage. “Is that what you remember? Hitting me?”

“I did not mean to! The gold-sickness—“

“YOU KILLED ME!” Bilbo screamed, effectively silencing Thorin´s words. “YOU KILLED ME THAT DAY! I DIED BY YOUR HAND!” He yelled, trying to blink the hot tears from his eyes, his hand reaching to the scar on his chest.

Thorin said nothing. He couldn´t find his voice, nor could he straighten up his thoughts. He felt as if he was just hit by a tray of metal bricks.

Bilbo came to him, snarling into his face. “Everything that mattered to you was the Eru forsaken stone. I tried to stop you, push you away from the dragon born from that jewel and you threw me to the ground, right on the Arkenstone´s shards. You killed me back then.” Bilbo said, not caring about the tears streaming down his face anymore. “You are the same arrogant dwarf you ever were. Keep your stupid gold. It makes me sick.”

Bilbo turned away, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. Maybe it was a bad idea to burst out so much while the poison still affected his body.

“I´m sorry...” He heard Thorin whisper. “I´m sorry.”

“Leave.” Bilbo gasped hurriedly as he felt his head spin. “Leave me—“ He stumbled, as pain shot throughout his whole body.

“What´s wrong? What is this?!” He heard Thorin panicking. He wasn´t sure what was going on. He heard Thorin talking to him, but he didn´t see or feel anything besides the pain in his entire upper body. The post-effect of Smaug´s magic hit him sooner than he expected. The last thing he knew before his consciousness left him, was the feeling of someone´s hands removing the coat.

* * *

 

Thorin managed to catch the hobbit in the last second. He scooped him into his arms and laid him into his bed. When his hand reached to remove the bloodied coat, he found himself frozen once again – much to his disturbance.

Bilbo´s entire left side – from cheek to his belly – was covered by red scales. Only the ones around the arrow wound were somewhat blackened and hot to touch. Finally, his eyes fell to the scar on his chest.

The unpleasant feeling of guilt and insecurity clawed his mind. He couldn´t bear to stay in the same room as him.

He took Bilbo´s coat off and covered him by furs.

With a heavy heart and a new, unknown, fear he left his own chamber to look for the dragon, refusing to meet Dwalin´s frowning eyes when he passed by.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it getting better or wose?   
> Anyone noticed the parallel with the dream about the crown?? Did you? Did you??? Anyway.   
> Fluffy Bilbo is returning in the next chapter alongside trolling playful!Smaug
> 
> Comments are very welcome!


	17. Dragon´s Riddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there again!  
> So I basically doomed myself for at least 10 more chapters with this one.... Enjoy the riddle... and can anyone guess what it means?:D  
> I hope I didn´t fuck up!
> 
> *Thanks Zayroen who hepled me with the riddle*  
> *Thanks Szabi, who keeps an eye on the grammar mistakes - if you find one, all blame is on him! Ehehehe*  
> Edit: I am a fucking goldfish, coz I forget important things: like this art that´s based on this fic! Thank you very much rocks0cks!!! (check out that badass dragon in the background *screeches*)   
> http://rocks0cks.tumblr.com/post/78542784335

Thorin ignored all the whispers and looks as he walked down the hall into the upper city. He was told that people saw Kíli talk with the dragon and then lead him into the upper, more spacious, halls where the dragon could move unhindered.

He mentally pictured the number of stairs that he has to cross, huffed and sped up to find his nephew and the wyrm.

He heard his name being called from above just as he neared the fifth set of stairs.

Thorin looked up just to see a slightly panting Balin descending the staircase, waving his hand at him.

“Don´t even bother going there.” The old dwarf said, patting Thorin on his shoulder and turning him around.

“What´s going on? I heard Kíli led the dragon there. Is something wrong?” The king asked, furrowing his brow.

“The dragon refuses to talk to anyone but Kíli. We also need to get Fíli up there as soon as possible.” Balin sighed.

“And someone has to explain things to Dís, am I right?”

“Exactly, laddie. And since she is your sister, you deal with her while we carry Fíli up.”

“Splendid.” Thorin muttered humourlessly. “Did the dragon say anything else?”

“We don´t know. Although Kíli said he will talk to you later. I guess the dragon has some requirements after all.”

Thorin nodded, dragging his palms down his face. This is going to be a long and unpleasant day. But at least the dragon doesn’t threaten them to overtake the city. He hoped the wyrm had no interest whatsoever in the gold hoard that laid in the lower levels.

His people would not survive another expulsion and moving. He wasn’t really sure if he would survive it this time.

However, he had more important things to think about now – like how is he going to explain to his sister that a dragon just made himself at home in their mountain and is going to tend to her elder son from now on.

* * *

 

Kíli sat on the floor near the giant crimson dragon, silently comparing him to the old Smaug. All he could do was to stare at the wyrm curled on the floor, and marvel at how tame and calm the dragon could seem despite his dangerous looks.

Surprisingly, he didn´t feel even slightly afraid. He remembered the day from nearly 15 years ago – when a bloodied Bilbo carried in the little dragon and asked him to heal his brother. He was so small back then. It is almost unbelievable to see him this big now.

Kíli was not a patient dwarf. Neither was he one to keep silent for long. He wanted to ask so many questions, but he was only slightly worried about how the dragon might react to his questions.

He may or may not have startled as the dragon suddenly sighed and opened his golden eyes and tilted his head.

It very much reminded Kíli of an over-grown dog. 

“Can you really heal him?” The young prince asked silently, fidgeting on the spot. The dragon raised his massive head and, oddly enough, peered behind Kíli as if the dwarf wasn´t even there.

The archer was first a little bit confused, but when the wyrm growled, lowering his head, he finally understood.

“Get out!” The young price said, snapping the guards by the door from their initial shock of suddenly gaining the dragon´s attention.  “I want to talk to him.”

“But my prince, I´m not sure—“ one of the guards stuttered.

Kíli only dismissed him with a wave of his hand, turning his attention back to the beast in front of him. The guards lingered, but soon left, and from their brisk walk, Kíli knew they were quite relieved to go.

“I believe you had questions.” The dragon said, lowering his head on the floor, blinking owlishly and swishing his tail back and forth.“

At that very moment, all the questions Kíli wanted to ask just vaporized. His mind stayed blank and his mouth open, but no sound came out.

“You are not very big.” Kíli blurted out and almost slapped himself for doing that. “I mean, I didn´t mean to – what I wanted to say was,” he stuttered as the dragon frowned at him, “that you are not as big as the other Smaug.” He clarified.

“I am big enough to eat you,” Smaug grumbled, effectively silencing the prince and startling him again when he leaned over him, opening his mouth and baring his teeth.

Kíli went all rigid and closed his eyes, awaiting pain or something, but when he felt a rough warm, not to mention stinky, giant tongue lick his face and pretty much the whole upper body, he yelped and fell backwards.

 “Eeewwww!” He cried out, scrubbing his wet cheek. “Why would you do that?!”

Smaug grinned and laid his head down again, pretending to ignore the young dwarf´s complaints.

* * *

 

Thorin told Balin and the guards to wait outside before he entered the Stone Chamber alone. The first thing he saw was his sister kneeling on the ground with her son´s head in her lap. Even from the distance he could hear her soft whispers echoing throughout the enormous room, creating an eerie atmosphere.

“Have you come to tell me about the dragon?” Dís asked silently, not looking away from Fíli´s face as Thorin stepped closer.

He wanted to ask how she knew but she just shook her head, silencing him.

“The guards came to tell me a while ago.” She said, finally looking at her brother. “You are here to take him to it, right?”

Thorin nodded shortly and bowed his head. “Gandalf says he is the only one who can heal him.”

She was silent, but he could feel her discontent. Dís gently laid the prince´s head on the ground and stood up, passing Thorin without a second look.

She stopped by the heavy door, and Thorin heard the shuffling of her robes as she turned around. “Just don´t let him die, please.” She pleaded silently and walked outside, closing the door behind her somewhat forcefully, making her brother jump.

He was prepared to hear her scream and protest, maybe hit him, or do something. But not this. Not this resignation. She was cold and lifeless and with every day Fíli spent in this thrice damned cave she felt more and more distant. Just like Kíli.

It pained him to see them suffer like this.

And it pained him even more that he couldn´t do anything but wait and see how it turns out.

But he would not give in. Not if the kingdom still stood and his nephew had a chance to be healed.

So they carried him into the highest point of the mountain where the dragon now dwelled.

And when he opened the door, he found Kíli sitting on the floor near the dragon who was already looking at him when he entered. Kíli looked confused for a second but when he turned around and noticed Thorin, he abruptly stood up and backed away from the wyrm.

Smaug nodded and the slightly terrified guards carried Fíli inside, laid him between the dragon´s giant paws and scrambled off.

Thorin made a mental note to give them a little speech after such a prompt leave.

“I would like to talk to you.” Thorin said as Smaug sniffed Fíli.

“He,” Kíli started hesitantly, wringing his tunic, “won´t talk to anyone but me.”

Thorin frowned at him, although he was forced to calm down as the dragon growled and levelled him with a cold stare.

“Kíli, leave.” The dwarf king said, “please.”

The prince glanced at the wyrm and bowed his head in submission. When the door closed behind him, Thorin found himself alone with the dragon

“Would you, please, talk to me? I need to know if what he said is true.”

Smaug stood up slowly and stalked towards the king, staring at him with his big golden eyes.

“I despise you so much.” He growled, his scales bristling and rustling as he surged forward, circling the dwarf. It took all Thorin´s willpower not to move.

“I remember your smell, your anger and your sickness. He tried to protect you and you killed him.”

“It was an accident!” Thorin protested, turning around to face the dragon who crept behind him, blocking the door. “I didn´t mean to.”

“Silence, you filthy creature!” Smaug hissed, “Everything he said is true. He carried me away and I watched him bleed to death because he wouldn´t stop until he couldn´t walk anymore.” Smaug said, lowering his head to look Thorin straight in the eye. “I can still sense it on you. The gold-sickness. You reek of greed and anger.” He hissed and backed away, back to where Fíli laid.

“I don´t care about the restrictions my father put on me. I don´t care if he still feels for you. If something happens to him, I will know it and I will burn you and all your people. I will tear this mountain down and no power in Middle-Earth will be able to stop me.”

Thorin was breathing heavily but he stubbornly stood his ground.

“However,” the dragon continued, tapping his tail against the floor, “I am a generous creature. I will give you a chance to redeem yourself.” He proclaimed, crouching down and spreading his wings.

With a low, grumbling voice, Smaug started to chant:

 _“If you like pretty gems that sparkle and shine,_  
I advise you to dig in your spiritual mine  
My first is purple, fit for a king,  
My second is green where Yavanna spreads her wing.  
My third is red, bids misfortune a quick farewell,  
My fourth is seen in strings and is found inside a shell.  
My fifth is hard, pure coal and expensive to buy,  
My sixth is a talisman, striped like the big cat's eye.  
Seventh is feathers but harder than steel,  
Eighth is very dark and born in fissures of Emyn Muil.  
And if the darkness is broken in dead of night,

_A new treasure is made with the hands of a re-born wright.”_

 

Thorin felt as if Smaug just passed a judgement on his life. He replayed the riddle mentally over and over, trying to memorize it because he knew it was not just a friendly advice. He knew the dragon was not being generous or merciful.

And while he was lost in his thoughts, Smaug crept forward, and as quick as light, he whipped Thorin´s left arm with his tail, cutting it open.

A startled noise came out of his throat and he stumbled backwards, although, he managed to stay on his feet.

Smaug said no more and returned to the elder dwarven prince. Thorin watched as Smaug lowered his head on the ground around his nephew and closed his eyes. His scales lit up with soft golden light and the room was suddenly being flooded with a thick veil of magic which made Thorin gasp for air.

He left without a word, grasping the wound on his shoulder, heading right to his study room to write down the riddle he was presented with.

And when he sat down and put the tip of the pen on the paper, he could hear the dragon´s riddle clear in his mind as if the dragon was right behind him, whispering the words into his ear.

* * *

 

Bofur wasn’t usually the sneaky type – that was Nori´s job. Nor did he usually sniff around the king´s quarters in the middle of the night. He would rather stay in one of the many pubs in the lower city and drink until he´d pass out. However, today was not a usual day. Today he found out that their supposedly dead burglar is very much alive.

Bilbo, the unbelievably polite, petite and caring little hobbit, whose death he mourned longer than anyone else, was alive!

He was devastated and he couldn´t sleep when the skin-changer came to tell them about the hobbit´s fate. He blamed himself but most importantly, he blamed his king - the one who banished him and left him to die. Nobody knew what really happened, or how Bilbo died. Bofur was, however, sure of one thing: He is not going to let him out of his sight, even if it was the last thing he would do.

And so he sent Nori to keep an eye on the king and let him know if he is returning to his quarters; sent the guards by the door to fetch some clean bandages, food, clothes, flowers and many other things that will hopefully keep them away for some time; and snuck inside the dark royal chambers.

He silently closed the door behind him and crept into the bedroom.

They were told that Bilbo passed out and is to be left in peace to sleep the weariness away, so Bofur supposed to find the hobbit in the bed.

As he approached it, he stopped dead in his tracks for the sheets were messy but the place was empty.

“Did he send you?” He heard a cold voice, almost jumping out of his skin. Bilbo was there, standing by the wardrobe, with the king´s garments scattered on the floor around him. He had one of Thorin´s tunics on – the simple blue one with black laces, and it almost looked like an oversized dress on him.

Bilbo repeated the question but did not turn around.

“Wha-? Who?” The toymaker stuttered, still a little startled, but he composed himself and calmly answered: “No, Thorin did not send me. I came here to check on you. To make sure I am not dreaming.”

Suddenly, he found himself with a sobbing hobbit in his arms, squeezing him like his life depended on it.

Bofur smiled and gladly returned the hug, petting his dishevelled hair.

“Shouldn´t you be in bed?” The dwarf scolded half-heartedly.

“I missed you! All of you!” Bilbo cried, covering with his palms.

“I missed you too! I am so glad you are alright. That was one hell of a stunt you pulled in the throne room, my friend.” Bofur teased and tightened his hold on the hobbit when he felt him sway.

“I was so scared.” Bilbo whispered weakly.

“I know. Calm down, you need to rest.” The dwarf said, as he scooped the burglar up just before he passed out and carried him to the bed.

And just as he was covering his lithe body with the sheets, the chamber door opened, revealing a very displeased Oin.

“And what are you doing here, eh?!” The physician grumbled, his hands on his hips.

“Eeer, nothing?” Bofur said sheepishly, and tried to get past the old dwarf without acquiring any substantial injuries.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? I really like reading those! *3*  
> Also, more Smaug development coming soon, new characters and much more (If I manage)..... To those who are jumping around with joy over the Bilbofur add... don´t be too happy, no Bilbofur relationship here, they are only BFFs and I need to make Thorin jelaous somehow...  
> Also, my laptop has broken down, so no art this week and there may be a little delay with the next chapter... maaayyyybeeeee... if the laptop will not be fixed anytime soon.  
> Thank you for reading! Love ya all!


	18. New Acquaintances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, so, remember how I said this chapter might not come out until at least next week? I lied...  
> I felt like the humour is a bit lacking, so this happened.  
> I just hope you´re gonna like it. For those, who will not like it, I´m sorry, you are free to stop reading (you´re gonna see the reason very soon)  
> Considering that I need to move on with the plot, I believe the content (or that part I am most worried about) of this chapter is very much needed.
> 
> Let me know what you think - in this case it is very important to me.
> 
> *My thanks goes to Zayroen and her counselling*  
> *It also goes to Szabi, who keeps an eye on the mistakes*

Four days passed since Bilbo last woke up, so when he opened his eyes and found himself in the cruel reality again, the first thing he noticed was the immense hunger and thirst torturing his stomach. He groaned unhappily and turned on his side, clutching his abdomen.

“I brought you some food.” He heard a feminine voice and instantly sat up in alarm.

There was a dwarrowdam standing near the table, gesturing to the plate loaded with cured ham and roasted potatoes.

Bilbo would have questioned her under different conditions, but his stomach growled in protest, so he got up, wrapped the bed sheet around himself even though he still wore the tunic he dug out from the wardrobe and sat into the giant soft armchair at the big oaken table.

He squinted at the dwarven woman in suspicion but dug into the food anyway. He gave her a side look every few second and everytime he looked up, he caught her studying him like he was some kind of a weird animal. And when he finally couldn´t hold back and cleared his throat to say something, she beat it to it, linking her hands behind her back and tilting her head.

“I´m Uzmek, daughter of Uzbek,” she introduced herself, bowing politely, “it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Bilbo stared at her with his mouth ajar for a short while before he nodded and introduced himself too, offering her the other chair to sit down. He really didn´t know what to think of this situation – so he decided to attempt to open the conversation when he saw the lady was not going to say anything unless he asked her first.

“Do you know how long have I been sleeping?” He asked politely, huddling up in the chair.

“I, um,” she squirmed on the spot, biting her lower lip, “I-I really don´t know. But it has been five days since you came.” She stuttered, squirming in the seat.

Bilbo made an acknowledging sound in the back of his throat as he thought about the many meals he missed during this period, not to mention the lack of bathing. He shivered at the thought, sniffing his arm absentmindedly.

“Umm,” Uzmek started, snapping Bilbo out of his thoughts, “are you really a 'Azugul Zabadith?” She asked, biting her lower lip.

“What?” He blurted out.

“A Dragon Lord.” She clarified, wringing her silvery-blue skirt.

“I-“ Bilbo started, furrowing his brow as he thought about the answer, “I guess I am?” Was he really? He was not really a lord – more like father – he mused.

“I was in the throne room when you got shot,” she said, dodging his eyes, “I am very sorry for the behaviour of my kin. I heard you came to heal the prince. Those of us who still believe in the direct Line of Durin are thankful for that.” She apologised, utterly surprising the hobbit.

“You are welcome, I suppose?”

“I can´t help but ask.” Uzmek whispered, leaning closer to Bilbo, who automatically did the same without thinking, “I heard some rumours about a foreign lover his majesty had during the quest for reclaiming Erebor.”

The uncomprehending look Bilbo gave her was enough to make her continue. She rolled her eyes and clarified: “It was you, right? The mysterious foreign lover.”

“Me?!” The hobbit squeaked, his cheeks flushing up immediately.

“People heard his majesty mutter your name as he walked the halls after the battle. We were really worried about him, but after some time it stopped and he went back to normal.” She said, furrowing her brow. “I heard- I heard you died in the battle. But that is not possible, right?” Uzmek smiled at him sweetly, inclining her head.  

At the moment, Bilbo had to admit to himself that she was, in fact, a rather pretty dwarrowdam – with her dark, almost black, eyes and contrasting honey-brown hair with little braids and beads. Even the almost invisible blond beard suited her.

He smiled back at her, shaking his head, dodging the actual answer. “Thorin and I were never more than friends.” He said, remembering their rocky relationship during the journey. “We trusted each other, just as we trusted the rest of the company. There was never anything more.”

“I understand.” The lady nodded, and looked like she wanted to say something, but an urgent knock echoed throughout the room, making her close her mouth and stand up. Uzmek bowed deeply, revealing her endowed cleavage - which Bilbo blissfully managed to ignore up to this point – and excusing herself from his company, she hurried away.

And just as Bilbo was about to search for someone whom he could ask for some hot water for his bath, another knocking came and Bofur stuck his head around the door.

“Just the person I needed!” Bilbo cried happily, walking over to him to welcome him, dragging the bed sheets behind him.

Bofur glanced around the chamber in worry, but his face lit up with a smile as soon as the hobbit approached him and invited him in.

“I would love to have a bath, but I have no idea whom to ask for the water.” Bilbo complained, as Bofur fidgeted on the spot.

When Bilbo asked him what was wrong, Bofur put down his hat and explained: “We are in the King´s chamber.”

“We are?” The hobbit asked, squinting around and shrugging. “As if I care.” he said, turning his nose up and fluffing the sheet around himself. “It´s not like he´ll return here anytime soon.”

And so Bofur showed him where the bathroom was and left, promising him to return with food and hot water.

Soon enough, Bilbo found himself resting his chin against the edge of a bathtub full of delightfully hot water while Bofur scrubbed his back.

“You really should eat more, laddie, you look like you are going to disappear on me any second.” Bofur teased, although Bilbo didn´t miss the worry and insecurity in his voice. 

“It is quite difficult to raise a dragon.” The hobbit answered, huffing and groaning in delight as the dwarf scratched him between his shoulder blades. “You have no idea how sleepy that makes me.” He commented.

Bofur was silent, thankful that he faced Bilbo´s back, hiding his upset face. “Also, what happened to your face?” He asked, surprising the hobbit.

“Something happened to my face?”

“Yeah, you look younger. Much younger.” Bofur replied, almost whispering. “You have changed so much...”

Bilbo did not reply to that and Bofur didn´t push him. When the dwarf finished scrubbing his back clean, and brought another bucket of hot water; Bilbo politely asked him to let him bathe for some longer.

The toymaker forced a smile onto his face and left.

Bilbo dully stared at the opposite wall until the water cooled down, thinking about all the changes that had happened to him. He might have been sulking for some time because he felt the light touch of his dragon´s mind, soothing the tumultuous feelings and doubts. And Bilbo gladly gave in, knowing that the one thing he did not regret for sure, was dying for the dragon and raising him.

* * *

 

Thorin was in the library, brooding while he searched through every single book about riddles, stones and dragons he could find, when Nori made his entrance, stepping out of the shadows.

“So it is true,” the spymaster started, “you´ve got kicked out of your own quarters.” He sniggered, not even trying to be subtle.

Not even Thorin´s highly unamused and almost murderous face could stop Nori from laughing at him.

“Very funny,” Thorin commented dryly, shaking his head in resignation, not letting himself be provoked by the other dwarf. He served him long enough to get used to the spy´s teasing. “Do you have anything relevant to report?” He sighed, returning to the book.

“I do, actually. Bilbo woke up. Bofur said he needs some clothes. Says he walked around in the bed sheets all morning.”

Thorin stopped reading, but he didn´t look up. “Tell my tailor to make something for him. Money won´t be a problem.” He said, slamming the book closed.

Nori nodded and continued more seriously. “Dáin is nearing the mountain, bringing the requested goods and his spoiled brat.” 

Thorin rolled his eyes and dragged his palm down his face.

“Excellent.” He commented, letting his head hit the surface of the table. He liked his cousin very much – he was a pleasant dwarf, easy-going and calm, although somewhat improper and stubborn. His son was, however, a completely different story.

* * *

 

Kíli did not move from his brother´s side ever since he was brought to the dragon. He felt oddly safe in Smaug´s company and the wyrm did not seem to mind his stay. Kíli sat with his back against the cold wall, watching his brother for any kind of sign that he is doing better. The painful emptiness in his chest hurt more with every day that passed but refused to give in.

There was one thing, however, that kept bothering him: everybody was calm. Well, everybody, except his uncle.

It was hard not to notice – Thorin came to see him the following day after he had his talk with Smaug, asking him how Fíli was faring and if the dragon had any requests.

Kíli explained that the dragon needed a way out of here, for he misses the sky and the chilly winds and his wings suffer from being folded too long. He also needed something to feed on, but refused to eat anything the dwarves would bring him.

Thorin complied by promising a gate that would lead directly out of the mountain and serve just for the dragon´s needs.

The young archer also mentioned the assassin Smaug took possession of, and gave away his whereabouts, under the condition that the dwarf´s life belongs to the dragon, and the dragon alone.

Thorin left rather briskly after that, but Kíli was not deceived, and knew that the hurry in his uncle´s step was not caused by the anticipation of getting his hands on the assassin.

It was as if he was choking in the dragon´s presence, and was glad to leave the room.

Everyone else acted as if everything was in complete order.

There was no panic, no fear, no riots or anything else suggesting that the mountain was harbouring a dragon. The people were calm and happy as ever, and for some reason, Kíli had the feeling that the golden aura around the dragon was not as limited as he thought it was.

Kíli shuddered at the thought of a single being having a power to influence the minds of such a vast number of people. He noticed the dragon staring at him and looked away, hiding his face in his palms.

“Someone is coming.” He heard the dragon mumble. When he looked up he saw Smaug sniffing the air, facing east. “They are bringing disquiet and trouble.”

* * *

 

Bilbo had no idea what time it was when he finally decided to leave the heavenly comfort of the bathtub. He lazily crawled out, wrapped a towel around his hips and returned to the main chamber to look for some clothes.

Finally knowing that he stayed in Thorin´s private rooms, he looked at everything from a different perspective.

He scrutinized the clothes, guessing the value and judging the looks but he, begrudgingly, had to admit that the king´s style had only little flaws.

The closet was mainly filled with dark clothes and heavy furs so Bilbo had not really a wide choice. He was right in the middle of ruining the nice stacks of tunics when the door suddenly slammed open, revealing a tall dwarf with shining eyes and full beard.

“Hello, dear cousin!!” The dwarf yelled, his deep voice echoing throughout the quiet chamber.

Bilbo stared at the dwarf like he had just slapped him. “Excuse me?” He asked somewhat meekly, backing few steps away and clutching the still wet towel on his hips.

The dwarf looked kind of confused for a second, but when his eyes fell on Bilbo, his eyes twinkled with interest and something what Bilbo could not identify.

The mysterious and quite rude dwarf made a deep thoughtful noise in the back of his throat and stepped closer to the hobbit, his eyes hungrily scanning his half-naked body.

“And who are you, lovely creature?” He asked and Bilbo definitely didn´t like the husky tone.

“Leave!”  Bilbo growled, backing away some more.

“Oh, don´t be such a spoilsport! I just asked for your name.” The dwarf merrily replied, his eyes shining with mirth and interest. “My cousin does have a good taste, does he keep you for himself?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about. Leave! Now!” Bilbo said as he groped after something he could fight with. The only thing he found was a silver candleholder on the table but he did not hesitate to aim it at the intruder.

“Ow, you are a feisty one – I like it!” The dwarf said, launching himself on the poor hobbit.

* * *

 

Thorin was quite used to Nori bursting into his office without any kind of warning or greeting, so he wasn´t really surprised when the door was slammed open, revealing the said dwarf. The only difference was the state he was in – panting and looking quite panicked.

Before he could even say something, the whole mountain shook with a rather furious booming roar Thorin very much knew.

“Dáin arrived.” Nori choked out, looking very uneasy, “and he is in your quarters.”

It didn´t take long for Thorin to understand what Nori was implying. He bolted out and ran as fast as he could with the spymaster following closely after.

He didn´t even warn the guards who were trying to open the door to his chambers as he sped up and kicked the door off its hinges.

Inside he found Bilbo beating Dáin with a candleholder, while the dwarf tried to pry the hobbit´s hand off a white towel wrapped around his hips.

“Dáin!” Thorin yelled, jerking his cousin backwards by the collar.

Dáin grinned and opened his arms to welcome his cousin. “Thorin! I am so glad to see you! How have you been?” He said casually, waiting for the king to return the hug, but sighed when the only thing he received was a fiery glare.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Thorin growled, gesturing around.

“I merely wanted to surprise you, but as it turned out you surprised me! Where did you find this lovely lad?” Daín answered, smiling innocently.

Bilbo bared his teeth and threw the candelabra right at him.

“Don´t touch me!” Bilbo yelled, slapping Thorin´s hand away when the king tried to calm him down. “I hope your beard falls off, you pervert!” The hobbit cried, flinging another object – a plate – at Dáin.

“Don´t be so mean!” The lord of Iron Hills cried in mock offense, trying to sidestep Thorin. “It was just—“ He didn´t get to finish as the hobbit slapped his face and the mountain shook with another roar.

Dáin´s merry smile dampened a bit as he looked around, slightly panicking. “That, uh, wasn´t very nice.” He mumbled hesitantly, and Thorin was not quite sure whether he meant the roar or the slap.

When the king wanted to make sure the hobbit is in one piece he turned around only to find an empty space.

Before he could say a word, the towel that was once on Bilbo´s hips flew across the room, hitting his cousin right in the face. He saw the hobbit dash outside, wearing nothing but a tunic that thankfully came down almost to his knees.

Silence fell in the room after that, and Thorin was the one who broke it.

“Let me be clear.” He started, trying very hard not to yell. “Firstly, next time you come over, you announce yourself first so we can avoid incidents like this.” Thorin warned, glaring at his cousin, who was clutching the towel to his chest. “And secondly, if you value your life, and the lives of every dwarf in this mountain, you will avoid him at all costs.”

Dáin watched him with a serious face, and Thorin almost thought his cousin understands the graveness of the situation but the comment that followed immediately ruined the impression.

“But can I keep the towel?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah..... Dáin arrives, Thorin Stonehelm arrives (more than a mere mention of his name will be in the next chapter), and an OC is added.... Sorry about that, I know people don´t like OCs but it really is necessary for the plot (kind of).  
> I would very much like to know what you think about it.  
> Thank you for reading, I hope I haven´t disapointed you with this.  
> (The chapters are becoming rather long.... I hope you don´t mind....)
> 
> Next chapter coming hopefully soon.


	19. Asking For Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aloha minions! Another chapter up!   
> I just want to let you know that (this time for sure) the 20th chapter will probably not come out the following week. I am going on a Game Expo, so I don´t think I will have much time for writing.
> 
> Also I have made a decision about certain things - like the actual M rated stuff: This is rated M for a reason, however, far too graphic stuff just doesn´t sit well with me in this story (I said FAR TOO - that doesn´t mean there wont be any), and since I´ll try to write it in a little Tolkien-ish way, I came up with a way to balance things. That means the actual written scene won´t be as graphic as many of you would like it to be, but I am a good person with a graphic tablet and I did some research on human bodies - if you catch my meaning. I started with one kind-of-sexy picture, and ended up with a folder full of p0rn. So yeah... maybe (100% sure) there will be a little sequence of images to go with the chapter (and I can already tell you that they are as revealing as they can get!):P   
> (And why do I write it now? Because I have a memory of a goldfish and I forget shit)
> 
> I hope you will be satisfied!:D 
> 
> Anyway, the plot is moving forward, which means Bilbo and Thorin finally finish their argumen in this one.  
> ENJOY!
> 
> *Thanks to Zayroen for beta-ing!*  
> **Thanks to Szabi, who is forced to help me with the plot**

Bilbo´s mind was too busy trying to calm down his outraged and furious dragon to take notice of his surroundings – therefore he was quite surprised and startled when he unexpectedly collided with something – or rather someone, and he would have fallen down if it wasn´t for the person to catch him.

“Watch where you´re going!” The dwarf snarled, his grip on Bilbo´s shoulders tightening.

Panicking slightly, Bilbo immediately broke free from the dwarf´s iron grip and ran away, leaving the offended raven-haired dwarf behind.

He had no idea where he was going. He only followed the invisible bond that drew him towards his dragon, and soon enough, he found himself outside a giant, double-winged oaken door. As soon as he pushed the door open, Bilbo flung himself at the unhappy wyrm.

Petting the dragon, straightening up his bristled scales and nuzzling his head against Smaug´s body, Bilbo didn´t even notice the panicking Kíli in the corner of the room.

* * *

 

“They really weren´t rumours then.” Dáin said, scratching his beard.

“No, they are not and better apologise to him before the dragon decides to fly over to your mountain to set it on fire.” Thorin replied, not even trying to mask his irritation and anger.

Dáin smirked and jabbed his cousin into the ribs. “Does it mean that lad will be there too?” He jested, waggling his eyebrows.

Thorin had to pinch his own thigh to keep himself from punching the dwarf. “This is like the number one thing you should not be joking about. Ever.”

“Oh, come on! Don´t be so grim. Of course I am going to apologise to him. I am not an uncultured swine after all. I was raised with manners.”

“Could have fooled me.” Thorin retorted, shaking his head.

Dáin followed his cousin wherever he lead him, still trying to drop a joke or two in, attempting to make Thorin relax just a little bit. He was just in the middle of re-telling a – in Thorin´s opnion not really funny story  – when they saw Dáin´s son.

“Ey, there´s my boy!”

Thorin III Stonehelm – as the dwarves call him since The Battle of Five Armies – stood in the hallway, looking like he is in deep thought, which, Thorin noted, was a very rare occasion. As soon as the two older dwarves approached him, he snapped out of his trance and greeted them, immediately turning to Thorin.

“You´ve got some lovely whores running around,” Stonehelm said, grinning at him. Dáin looked like he wanted to say something but the king under the mountain interrupted him, levelling his son with a thunderous frown.

“You, boy, should mind your words in my presence if you want your balls to stay intact.” He said, turning to Dáin, “you should make sure he understands the situation.” Thorin finished, leaving no space for arguments or complaints.

Stonehelm looked outraged and insulted, but one stern look from his father silenced him and he walked away.

Dáin kept trying to lift his cousin´s moods up despite knowing he was failing miserably, but it was not in his nature to give up so easily.

After another three sets of stairs and many attempts to cheer Thorin up later, Dáin finally asked: “Where are we even going?”

“What do you mean? You are going to apologise to him, I don’t want my mountain burned down.”

“But, how do you even know where—“ Dáin began, but was promptly silenced as Thorin pushed a huge door open, revealing the room where the dragon lay.

And for the first time since the Battle of Five Armies, the humour was wiped off of Dáin Ironfoot´s face without a trace. He stood rooted on the spot, gaping at the crimson drake in horror. The last thing he expected was to face the dragon personally.

From the corner of his eye he saw Thorin walk in, although somewhat tensely.

Soon enough, the lord of Iron Hills noticed the person sitting on the floor, leaning against the dragon´s side. He moved closer, his eyes fixed on the person – who turned out to be the lovely lad from before.

The wyrm´s eyes snapped open as soon as Dáin made another step closer, fixing the lord with a glare that clearly didn´t say anything friendly.

Only now he noticed Thorin walking to the corner of the room, to the left from where the dragon lay, noticing that there was another person in there too.

“Kíli, are you alright?” He heard his cousin mutter silently. His attention was, however, drawn back to the drake on the floor, who bared his teeth at him defensively.

Dáin instinctively reached for the sword on his hip and instantly realized his mistake when the creature growled and hissed, looking positively murderous.

“Smaug...” He heard the lad from before whisper and the dragon instantly calmed down, although it still stared at Dáin with disdain and spite.

Clearing his throat, the Ironfoot lord straightened up, miraculously managing to put up an honest smile and apologised when the hobbit turned his attention to him.  

“I sincerely regret my behaviour from before and I hope you can forgive me this insult.” Dáin said, bowing his head and placing his fist to his heart.

Bilbo stood up, petting the dragon´s head when he let out a displeased whine and waited for the dwarf to continue.

“I am Dáin Ironfoot, cousin of Thorin, Lord of Iron Hills,” he said, stretching out his hand, unsure whether of the hobbit´s reaction.

Thorin, who was watching the whole scene from the corner where Kíli sat, glanced from the hobbit to the dwarf, unsure whether or not to intervene. However, when Bilbo huffed and walked over to Dáin, dipped his head and introduced himself in return; he allowed himself to relax a little bit.

And it wouldn´t be Thorin´s cousin, if he did not seize the opportunity presented to him.

When Bilbo went to shake the lord´s hand, Dáin twisted their hands so he could tug the hobbit closer, kissing his knuckles.

As soon as Smaug´s head shot up and the dragon emitted another hostile whine, Dáin released Bilbo´s hand and took one step back from him.

“I meant no harm,” he said, grinning sheepishly, his arms raised in surrender.

Bilbo shook his head, rolled his eyes and returned to lay against his dragon again.

Thorin finally took the opportunity to take his, still rather panicking, nephew to his own chambers.

* * *

 

“Kíli!” Thorin called once he carried his shaken nephew to his room and seated him onto a chair, kneeling in front of him. “Kíli, are you alright?” He asked, petting the dwarf´s cheek.

“Uncle,” the lad choked out weakly, “he was so angry. What happened?”

“It was just… a little misunderstanding. Are you alright? Did the dragon hurt you?”

“Y-yes, no, I mean-,” Kíli stuttered, hiding his face into his palms, “No, he didn´t hurt me, and yes, I am alright. He only scared me. I did not expect it. We were talking, and suddenly, he changed,” the young dwarf explained, still a bit shaking. “The golden light – it changed. It was no longer pleasant and calming. It was burning and I couldn´t move, and he-he was just so angry.”

“Calm down, lad. It´s fine now. I´m going to make sure it won´t happen again.” Thorin tried to calm him down, gently knocking their foreheads together. “You should rest a bit. And then go check on your mother. She misses you.” He said, patting Kíli´s shoulder and standing up.

He was almost by the door when Kíli spoke up.

“I am sorry, uncle.”

“What for?” Thorin asked, puzzled.

“For earlier. My outburst. I didn´t mean it, I am sorry.”

Thorin smiled, turning his head. “It is alright, Kíli. We were all a little bit on edge. There is nothing to forgive.”

And then he left, silently closing the door behind him, feeling as if someone had lifted a heavy weight from his heart.

* * *

 

_Everyone was dancing._

_He was standing in the middle of a crowd of dancing dwarves, frantically looking around. He didn´t know what he was looking for._

_Laughter echoed all around but the people´s faces were twisted in pain._

_There was a voice. Calling him, warning him to stay away, but he couldn´t understand whose voice it was. He pointlessly walked to and fro, disoriented, but somehow it felt right._

_“Thorin…” The voice whispered and he spun around, searching for it´s source._

_He felt a hand in his and when he looked up, he saw a beautiful dwarrowdam with sky-blue eyes and broad radiant smile. She laughed and dragged him deeper into the dancing crowd. She danced around him and soon enough he forgot about everything and joined the dancing._

_The voice ceased down but as Thorin spun around, he caught a glimpse of him – of Bilbo standing motionlessly in the crowd. His back was turned on Thorin and he was focused on something on the ground._

_“Come back!” The dwarrowdam called, luring him back into the dance. Thorin did not give in this time. He felt something was wrong._

_“Come, dance with us!” Another voice called, and the king felt his heart stop. “It is fun, brother! Why aren´t you dancing?” His brother called, dancing with the beautiful lady._

_Thorin wanted to run to him, join him in the dance, but once he took a step back the voice spoke up again, this time louder and much angrier._

_He felt a hand on his shoulder and when he looked back, he saw Bilbo frowning at him._

_“What have you done?!” The hobbit asked spitefully, and when the king looked down at his feet, he saw his nephews lying in a puddle of blood. Their limbs were blackened and deformed and their eyes glassy and unseeing._

_He fell to his knees and before he could reach out for them, he felt Bilbo leaning against him from behind, catching his hands, stopping him from touching his dead nephews._

_“What have you done?” He whispered in his ear mournfully._

_He felt a stinging pain in his own hands and watched them go black and weak. He was watching the dwarves fell to the ground, dying one after another, and finally the king, too, fell down, succumbing to the strange plague._

* * *

 

That is when Thorin woke up from the nightmare with a scream, falling down from the couch in his study he was using as a substitute bed ever since Bilbo moved into his chambers.

He was all sweaty and panting, sitting on the floor until Dwalin opened the door, sticking his head in.

“Are ya alright?” He asked, frowning at him.

Thorin dried his forehead with his sleeve and stood up, nodding. He walked over to his desk, grabbing his vest and sword.

“What´s the time?” He asked calmly.

“The sun is just rising.”

“Come.” The king said, fastening the vest with a belt and clipping on the sword to his hip.

Dwalin didn´t need to ask where they were going. He followed his friend to the training grounds without any comment.

“You are getting slow.” The warrior commented deadpan as Thorin charged again at him.

“And your mouth is getting bigger.” The king retorted, dodging Dwalin´s kick.

They have been sparring for good three hours without a break, throwing insults at each other while trying to land a hit. They were both sweating and swearing, but refused to give in while the other still stood.

“So how are you going to deal with the delegation from Mirkwood?” Dwalin started changing the subject when he ran out of insults to throw at Thorin.

“What do you mean?”

“Like ordering wine and convincing the cooks to add some vegetables to the menu - the usual stuff.”

Thorin sighed and groaned, stepping aside to move away from Dwalin´s hammer.

“You know, it is not like he can´t bring his own wine,” he said, thinking of Thranduil, “which he will, and he will be forced to either starve or eat the meat we serve. He is not the only one coming over. We are hosting Bard and his people as well.” Thorin said in exasperation.

Dwalin shrugged, acknowledging that Thorin is right. “What about Dáin?” He asked instead.

“What about him.”

“I heard he asked for more gold than usual for the goods he brought.” Which was true, but nobody dared to broach the topic directly.

Thorin´s reaction, however, left Dwalin gaping at him with his mouth open.

“What do I care. He can have his money, I have more important things to take care of.” He said, shrugging and stopping his sword a hair away from Dwalin´s neck. “And you lost, buddy.”

Suddenly, he felt a sting on his left shoulder and he threw the sword to the ground, gripping the wound and yelping in pain.

“Damn that dragon and his stupid tail!” Thorin cursed, not even noticing that Dwalin still stood rooted to the spot, ogling him as if he just changed into an elf.

“Thorin… did you just…?” Dwalin choked out, not believing his own ears.

“We´re done here.” Thorin said, still not taking notice of Dwalin´s dumbstruck face. He picked up his sword and sheathed it, dusting himself off. “I am hungry.” The king clarified and walked out, leaving the still shocked warrior behind.

Thorin, however, couldn´t eat more than just a mouthful of meat and few potatoes.

His shoulder still ached and he couldn´t clear his thoughts. He still hasn´t finished the papers that were due today, and the council meeting was a pure disaster. He gave up after the first hour, leaving the arguing councilmen arguing over his decision of letting Dáin get as much gold as he requested.

He really didn´t have the time for this.

He wandered through the mountain like a lost shadow, not knowing where his feet are taking him, until he finally stopped, finding himself in front of his own chamber door. Laughter echoed from inside, which surprised him.  Slowly pushing the door open, he entered, finding Dori, Ori and his tailor arguing over something – probably Bilbo´s clothes, since the hobbit stood in the middle of the room, wearing plain fabrics and the dwarves fussed over him; and Bofur, Bifur and Oin just sitting around and enjoying the change of opinions.

Nobody noticed him, except the hobbit who turned around to face him, immediately capturing everyone´s attention.

As soon as they saw him they felt silent, and when Thorin asked them to leave, they stood up and obliged without further comments. The only one who lingered was Bofur, but he too left when Bilbo urged him to do so.

And so, they were finally alone and free to finish the talk they started few days ago.

“How are you feeling?” Thorin started, trying to sound casually.

“What are you doing here?” Bilbo said in cold detachment.

Thorin bit the inside of his cheek, lowering his eyes. “I came to make sure you´re alright.” He said finally.

Bilbo sighed and turned away from him, walking over to the table. “Suddenly you care about my well-being. Do you still think I would let your nephew die just to spite you?”

“I don´t-“

“Be silent. I am tired of your excuses.” Bilbo growled, and Thorin felt the wound on his shoulder burn some more. He winced but he didn´t reach for it. “I left as soon as I could,” Bilbo continued, “and I never even thought about revenge, yet you still sent your hounds to hunt me down. I was forced to leave the Shire just to keep them away from my people.”

Thorin was having a hard time comprehending what he was just told.

“I have not-“ he started, frowning in confusion, “I did not send anyone!”

“You are lying to my eyes!”

“I am not! I swear!” The dwarf raised his voice, interrupting the hobbit. “I did not even know you were alive! Beorn came to tell us you died, right after the battle. Whoever was after you was not one of my people, I would not—“ he stopped himself, biting his tongue.

“You would not hurt me? Do you forget about the time we met on the beach of Ered Luin? The time you drew your sword against me?”

“I did not mean to hurt you!”

“Listen to yourself,” Bilbo mocked silently, looking away.

“Bilbo, please.” Thorin pleaded, moving closer, trying to ignore the pain that numbed his whole left arm. “Please, believe me when I say I do not want to hurt you. I just want to make peace. I admit my mistakes, and I ask for your forgiveness.”

The hobbit looked up, still not looking convinced. “If not you, who would want me dead. If what you say is true, and you didn´t know I was alive, who then would send headhunters across the whole Middle-Earth just to get rid of me?”

“I don´t know. I really don´t. But if you let me, I will try to find out who did it. Just give me a chance.”

Bilbo sighed, hugging himself defensively. Thorin sensed his insecurity and didn´t push him.

“I don´t think I can forgive you, Thorin. At least not yet.”

“I know.” The dwarf replied, his shoulders sagging. “Just give me time. That´s all I ask for.”

Bilbo nodded, looking at Thorin again.

“What happened to your shoulder?” The hobbit asked, frowning.

Only now the dwarf noticed the blood colouring his sleeve. He tried to hide it with his palm, turning away from Bilbo.

The hobbit rolled his eyes and shook his head once again.

“Show me.” He said and Thorin, even though somewhat hesitantly, obliged. He sat down on the bed and peeled off his vest and tunic, inspecting the weird wound.

Bilbo sat next to him, holding some bandages, thread and a curved needle.

“Oh. This is not something I can sew close.” Bilbo mused, inspecting the eight lines of symbols curling around the king´s bicep.

“Looks like Smaug did not hit me just for fun.” Thorin commented.

Bilbo sniggered, wrapping a bandage around the dwarf´s arm. “I have to praise him.” He said, smirking smugly.

The look of confusion on Thorin´s face was enough for Bilbo to continue.

“I feel what he feels. I knew you two were in the same room because I felt how much he tried to repress his anger. I am surprised you walked out in one piece.”

“Should that make me feel any better?” Thorin asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No.” Bilbo retorted, laughing at Thorin´s unhappy face. “Not at all.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. As always, comments are very welcome. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter and if you didn´t read the notes in the beginning - scroll back up and read them! 
> 
> Love you guys! Leave a comment, cookie or kink preference.
> 
> (Aren´t the chapters getting boring??)


	20. Playing With Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumour has it, you all miss the cliffhangers....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am never going to write something about timing the uploads because I never do what I say I´ll do. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> *Thanks to Zayroen for keeping an eye on the story*  
> **Thanks to Szabi, who corrects the mistakes**

Despite their initial, and quite polite, conversation they had earlier, Bilbo and Thorin were not exactly on speaking terms – which made Thorin rather uneasy. However, they weren’t glaring at each other and acting like they were strangers.

They greeted each other conventionally like ordinary people, but beyond that they did not speak. Truth be told, Thorin did not even have the time for polite and pointless conversations, even though he wished to ask the hobbit how he was feeling or if he enjoyed his meal.

No, Thorin had no time to dwell on things like this, at least not now. He was currently trying to go through all the legal papers the council submitted, as well as the never-ending list of goods Dáin brought.

The constant need to set the papers on fire and just walk away was very tempting but he knew better than to do that.

Fortunately, his prayers for a distraction came true after three hours of reading and signing.

“I hope you came with some valid news and not just to snoop around and mock me.” Thorin murmured, throwing the document he was reading on the table and crossing his arms on his chest.

“How come you always know I´m here?” Nori sniggered as he stepped out of the shadows.

“It´s the bad breath, I suppose.” The king commented dully.

Nori frowned, actually sighing and sniffing the air. “No, really,” he said, “how?”

Thorin rolled his eyes and massaged his temples. “That´s a secret.”

“Fine, keep your secrets. But I do have some news for you. Good, and bad ones, which one do you want to hear first?” Nori said, making himself comfortable on the soft couch in front of the hearth.

“The good ones…” Thorin mused absentmindedly, leaning his elbows against the table.

“The headhunter finally spoke up,” Nori said, immediately earning Thorin´s full attention.

“And?” The king urged him. “Is there any connection between him and the assassins from the shire?”

“There is none. Sorry.” The spymaster said, frowning into the fire. “Turns out the arrow was meant for you, not for Bilbo. He panicked and hit the wrong person.”

Thorin groaned hiding his face in his palms. “My enemies must be pretty broke since they can´t afford proper manslayers.”

“You should be happy.” Nori commented, but bit his tongue right afterwards.

“Should I? Really? Bilbo got shot instead of me, and that is supposed to make me feel better?!” Thorin growled, feeling his temper slipping away.

Nori bowed his head and apologised. Thorin let out a long exhausted sigh and continued.

“If these are the good news, do I even want to hear the bad ones?” He mused.

“There are more and more people succumbing to some strange illness.” Nori said, “the lower levels are teeming with delusional dwarves, the physicians have their rooms full of patients with fever and something that closely resembles rabies, and they still can´t figure out the cure.”

“How is it possible I haven´t heard about this yet?” The king asked, raking though the reports from the council. Nori shrugged and stood up, prepared to leave.

“How many times have I told you to get rid of them?” Nori growled, accusingly jabbing his finger at the king accusingly. “How many times?!”

“It is not that easy and you know it. I can´t just throw out the entire council just because I feel like it. I still need someone to keep an eye on the guilds.”

“Of course.” Nori sneered, turning around and towards the window. “I hope you still enjoy the couch, your majesty.” The spymaster uttered and disappeared before the bowl of fruits Thorin hurled at him could hit its target.

* * *

 

“So how do you enjoy your accommodation?” Dori teased, waggling his eyebrows.

“I have no idea what you´re talking about.” Bilbo replied, hiding his smirk behind a cup of fresh tea.

“Oh, you know very well what I´m talking about, you little devil you!” Dori laughed, sipping his own tea, “you practically banished the king from his own quarters and claimed them for yourself.”

“It´s not like I did it on purpose!” Bilbo defended himself, “I just woke up there, so I supposed it was like a spare room or something.”

Dori barely managed to hold himself from rolling his eyes. “Seriously? You consider that a common spare room?”

Bilbo shrugged, sipping his tea, listening to Ori´s silent sniggers from the other room. “It is not like he couldn´t come back. He just didn´t, so I indulged myself a little bit.”

“By throwing all this clothes out of the wardrobe and making a nest out of his bed?” Dori asked sceptically, shaking his head.

“I was just looking for something to sleep in. And I just couldn´t resist the soft furs. I mean, the bed is fine, but I used to sleep next to Smaug all the time. He always curled around me to keep me warm. Guess he spoiled me a bit.” Bilbo objected, barely hiding his amusement.

“I heard his majesty now sleeps on a couch.” Dori muttered conspiratorially.

After a short while of forced silence they both burst out laughing. Their merriment was, however, cut short when Balin entered, saying that the tailor finished the first set of clothes for Bilbo, and asks him to try them out as soon as possible.

When Bilbo finished his tea, Dori bid him good-bye and he left with Balin and two guards to try the clothes out.

Balin told him to take his time, and sent one of the guards to let the tailor know if the clothes were fine or not. The hobbit thanked him and they parted before Thorin´s chambers.

The guards automatically took their places on each side of the big door after Bilbo entered.

Pondering about how hard it is to tell whether it is day or night he examined the coats and tunics and trousers one after another, not even noticing he was not alone in the room.

“Just keep going, I´m enjoying the view.” Bilbo heard someone say as he started to strip from his clothes. He spun around, searching for the source of the deep gruff voice.

“What are you doing here?” The hobbit asked angrily, trying to re-dress himself.

Stonehelm dashed from his spot by the fireplace, grabbing Bilbo´s arms and preventing him from putting his tunic back on.

“You look better without it.” The dwarf commented, sniffing the hobbit.

Bilbo struggled to free himself from his grasp but Stonehelm did not let go. He grinned at him, drawing him closer.

“He cares so much about you. I wonder,” he mused, breathing in the hobbit´s curls, “how did you charm him?”

“I did not charm anyone,” Bilbo growled, finally standing still and letting the dwarf do what he pleased, “there is a dragon who listens to my every command.” He said, tuning his head to the side as Stonehelm pressed his mouth against the crook of his neck and bit down lightly.

“Come on,” the dwarf whispered against his skin, “surely there is something that stops you from doing it.”

“What do you want?” Bilbo asked, trying to push him away.

“You,” Stonehelm breathed, finally stepping away and dragging his hands upwards along the hobbit´s arms, stopping at his neck. “You are such a lovely whore. Don’t stick around that old madman, I am much better than him.” He purred into Bilbo´s ear, still grinning. “And you can still moan the same name.”

“You are sick.” Bilbo whispered repulsively, tensing as the dwarf´s hands tightened around his throat.

“Are you going to let your dragon eat me now?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. Bilbo stayed quiet, pursing his lips. “That´s what I thought. You cannot kill me. Not when you still care about others.” He murmured when Bilbo stayed silent. “I always get what I want. Remember that.”

“Get out!” The hobbit growled, and Stonehelm would have laughed, if it wasn’t for a heavy hand that landed on his shoulder and spun him around.

“I think it´s time to leave.” Balin warned, his face almost frighteningly calm. The younger dwarf let out a mocking laugh and stalked outside, slamming the door after him.

“Are you alright?” Balin asked but kept his distance from the now trembling hobbit. “Bilbo.” He breathed, catching the lad as his knees gave up on him.

Bilbo clung onto the old dwarf, hiding his face in his shoulder.

“Why are they like this?” He asked silently as Balin petted his curls. “All of them, the dwarves eye me like a prey.”

“It is hard to explain, laddie.” The dwarf sighed. “I will talk to Thorin. I think you might need some proper guards to keep you safe.”

* * *

 

After Balin left, Bilbo took a long hot bath. However hard he scrubbed his skin, he could still somehow smell the perverse dwarf. It was like a plague, he thought. Another problem was Smaug. Even though Bilbo tried his best to hide his feeling from him to prevent any damage and conflicts, the dragon still sensed his tension and discomfort. Even though he knew he had to pay him a visit very soon, since he grew restless with every while they spent apart, he took his time and tried every piece of clothing the tailor sent him.

Everything was made out of the finest fabrics and softest furs found in the whole Erebor, and everything fit him like a glove. The only problem was that the clothes seemed to be too extravagant. The other dwarves warned him that the tailor liked to let himself loose and design sometimes very unique – as Dori described them – clothes, but he still had no idea of how unique they might be.

He turned around to see every inch of himself in the mirror, and after a long while he finally chose a plain dark-blue tunic, simple maroon trousers and a long grey coat lined with fur. Although Dori gave him some aromatic oils, he didn´t feel like experimenting with them just yet so he put them on the night table and exited the room, his mind fully set on dealing with his scaly and rather upset child.

Bilbo knew something else was wrong as soon as he pushed the door open and found the dragon impassively lying on the floor and a sobbing Kíli kneeling on the floor next to his brother.

“Bilbo, please!” Kíli hiccupped, clearly at the end of his strength.

“Smaug?” Bilbo half-asked, half-warned. “What is going on?”

“I finally understand what is wrong with this dwarfling.” The dragon said, his tale twitching. When he saw that Bilbo is not going to say anything until he clarifies what is wrong, he continued, scratching the floor with his giant claws. “I won´t heal him.”

Bilbo could hardly believe his own ears. The shock and distraught the hobbit felt upon hearing this, however, hit both of them. Smaug whined as his father´s hurt hit him with full force, and hid his head under his wing, refusing to face him.

A good while passed before Bilbo recovered from the initial shock. He raked his curls with his fingers and sighed. “You will heal him.” He said finally with a hard voice. Smaug flinched, curling into a tighter ball.

“I will not! They don´t deserve it!” The dragon cried. “They mock you, and regard you as if you were an object they can own! They are evil-minded and greedy! All of them! They don´t deserve your sympathy!”

“Fíli has done nothing wrong! You cannot let him suffer for the sins of others!” Bilbo cried, his heart aching from the hurt and anger his dragon felt. Even if he was angry with him, he could not hold himself back from approaching his upset and vindictive child. He knew Smaug was just a child, despite the fact that he probably won´t be able to fit through the front gate very soon. Bilbo kissed the top of Smaug´s muzzle and laid his head on top of it. 

“Not all of them are like that.” Bilbo whispered, “I promise you that I will let you punish them later. But please, don´t let him die. He does not deserve such fate.” He pleaded, still petting the dragon´s head. Bilbo felt him calm down but there was still something that filled his child with dread and panic.

“What is wrong?”

“I don´t want to do it. I am scared because now I understand.” Smaug whined, anxiously tapping the ground with his tail. “I finally understand how my magic works.”

Bilbo raised his head, frowning with confusion when the dragon still refused to meet his eyes.

“You cannot ask this of me. I cannot take such risk.” Smaug continued much to the hobbit´s confusion.

“What do you fear so much?” Bilbo asked, and when the dragon finally opened his eyes, Bilbo could somehow see the truth in them. He read the truth in the golden orbs full of fear and reluctance.

He felt his knees go weak but he did not give in. He _knew_ what Smaug is risking, but it still was not enough to say no.

He kissed him again, cleaning his mind and filling it with every drop of love and certainty he could muster so Smaug could feel it too.

“It will be alright. I promise.” Bilbo assured him, caressing his scaly head lovingly. “You are a strong dragon, everything will be fine.” He said to Kíli, who watched their conversation in silent fear and nervousness.

“Everything will be fine.” The hobbit said, but did not look the dwarf in the eye. “Your brother will be fine. Could you, please, tell Thorin,” Bilbo hesitated, biting his lip, “could you tell your uncle that I need to see him tonight?”

Kíli nodded, albeit somewhat hesitantly but did not move from the spot. “Bilbo, what is wrong?” He asked silently.

The hobbit only smiled and shooed him away. The dwarf took his leave, but he still couldn´t shake the bad feeling.

“Do it now and don´t hesitate! Everything will work out.” Bilbo said to Smaug with an air of finality and returned to his chambers, not looking back.

* * *

 

Thorin was just in the middle of discussing the choice of bodyguards for Bilbo with Balin and Dwalin, when Kíli busted through the door.

“Uncle, Bilbo says he needs to see you tonight. I think it is important.” He said nervously, glancing around.

“What might he need?” Thorin asked with a raised eyebrow.

“He hasn´t told me, but I think it has something to do with Smaug.” The young archer said, squirming under the sudden attention he received from the three dwarves.

Thorin sighed, standing up and putting his coat on. He nodded at Dwalin and turned back at his nephew. “Very well, I shall come to see him soon. I still need to get some guards.”

Balin nodded and excused himself, returning to his own office.

A while later, the king was walking though the main barracks, looking for the guards who accompanied him to Ered Luin. He found his first target in his usual place – sitting in the scaffold, overseeing the training of the younger warriors.

“Captain,” Thorin greeted, the old dwarf when he approached him.

“Your majesty,” the captain greeted, bowing deeply, “what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you here?”

“I have a job for you and that new successor of yours you praise everywhere you go.” Thorin said, remembering the young dwarf with shining eyes from the beach.

The captain smiled and nodded. “Yes, Ilar is a very good warrior, and a very loyal one, I can assure you!” The captain said, eyeing the soldier on the training grounds.

“Excellent,” Thorin said, “I absolve you from all your daily duties. As of now, you are a personal guard of Bilbo 'Azugul Zabadith. You will go wherever he goes, and listen to every order he gives you as long as they don´t oppose mine.” Thorin said, and the captain saluted, asking no questions, even though he looked quite surprised.

“Get your gear ready and meet me in front of my chambers.”  Thorin ordered, turning on the heel and stalking away with Dwalin in tow.

* * *

 

Thorin knocked – actually knocked - on his own chamber door, listening closely for an invitation. He kicked Dwalin in his shin as soon as the warrior sniggered, ordering him to stay outside to wait for the captain and his protégé.

“Bilbo?” He asked, scanning the room but finding no one. The room was only illuminated by the fire of the hearth, and nothing else. “Bilbo?” He repeated, as he spotted the hobbit lying on his side on a heap of furs, disturbingly close to the fireplace.

“Do you want to set yourself on fire?” Thorin commented mirthlessly, stepping closer and kneeling down.

“Bilbo?” He gently shook the hobbit´s shoulder, thinking he fell asleep. When he turned him on his back, however, he instantly knew something was terribly wrong.

“What the—“ He stuttered, feeling Bilbo´s pale, ice-cold skin. “Bilbo! Hey! Can you hear me?” Thorin asked, trying his hard to stop panicking. The hobbit sluggishly opened his eyes but could not hold them open for long.

“What took you so long?” He slurred weakly, as Thorin fretted around him.

“What by Mahal´s beard is going on?” The king asked, really failing at keeping his voice straight.

“Smaug…” Bilbo whispered, clumsily dragging his palm across his face, “Smaug found out what is wrong with Fíli.” The hobbit managed to say, his head lulling around as Thorin picked him up from the floor, carefully manoeuvring his way towards the bed.

“That still doesn´t explain what is wrong with you!” The dwarf complained, fixing his hold on the hobbit so that his head rested on his shoulder.

“Me?” Bilbo asked, and Thorin almost didn´t hear it. “I´m dying.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun DUn DUUUUNNN!!!
> 
> So dramatic.... I wonder what happens next... Just kidding, I know exactly what´s going to happen. Also we have a mysterious plague running though Erebor, spoiled Stonehelm, the mystery behind the "old captain´s" name, Fíli´s cure (yeah, finally, right?)....  
> Sorry for adding that little not-really-important-but-essential OC Ilar - I just can´t call everyone soldier, warrior, dwarf and captain now, can I?  
> Aaaaanyway, are you wondering what´s wrong with Bilbo? Guess you have to wait till the next chapter to find it out... 
> 
>  
> 
> COMMENTS ARE WELCOME! Share your despair! Mwa ha ha!
> 
> (the fucking fic is getting pretty long now:/, I hope you are not bored yet!)


	21. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO IT ONLY TAKES A LITTLE NASTY CLIFFHANGER TO MAKE YOU COMMENT??? GOOD TO KNOW, FOLKS! GOOD TO KNOW!! :D
> 
> I am very sorry about this chapter... I hate myself for it... But maybe I can bribe you with some aaaart...
> 
> For chapter 20: Stonehelm and Bilbo   
> http://shaerahaek.tumblr.com/post/80568915116/anonymous-request-may-i-ask-a-drawing-of-bilbo
> 
> Also some Erebor fashion, so you have an idea of my view of Bilbo´s smexy and excentric clothes:P   
> http://shaerahaek.tumblr.com/post/80203068691/bilbo-erebor-style-part-1-because-i-need-some
> 
> http://shaerahaek.tumblr.com/post/80574779318/bilbo-erebor-fashion-part-2-part-1
> 
> +Spoiler pic for the future smut (coz I love you guys and I want you to believe that I really woked on the p0rny parts)  
> http://shaerahaek.tumblr.com/post/80588454983/some-spoilers-for-by-your-hand-yeah-you-can
> 
> *Thanks goes to Szabi, who has the patience to correct and read my fic.*  
> **Zayroen took a break for a while I guess :/ **

Dwalin impatiently tapped his foot against the floor. The captain and his young soldier were taking their time coming to the king´s quarters and Thorin slammed the door in his face, telling him to wait for the two dwarves and has not come out thenceforth. And since Dwalin was anything but patient, he decided he had enough of the waiting and carefully cracked the door open, peeking in.

He saw the hobbit, motionlessly lying on the giant fur-covered bed; and Thorin sitting on an armchair next to him, his face hidden in his hands. At first, Dwalin did not know what to make of this but after few careful steps he noticed how deathly-pale Bilbo was.

He rushed forward to the bed, pressing his fingers against the hobbit´s neck to feel his pulse.

“What happened?!” Dwalin snapped, checking Bilbo´s body for any injuries.

Thorin leaned backwards on the chair, looking at his friend with tired eyes.

“I swear to Mahal, Thorin, if you don´t tell me what´s going on, I´m going to punch you.”

The king sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I have no idea.” He said silently, looking back at the hobbit. “I don´t know.”

Dwalin did not miss the desperation that crept into his voice, nor did he miss the vacant, resigned look in his eyes. He knew he would not hear anything about what happened in the room until Thorin composes himself.

“Nobody is permitted to enter, except you and Balin.” Thorin spoke up, filling the tense silence. “Arrest or dispose of anyone who would dare to enter by force. Make sure the others know.” He said, and Dwalin silently nodded, reflexively straightening his spine, like everytime he received an order.

Thorin waved him off and the warrior obliged. The old captain and his protégé were stationed outside the chambers along with four other most trusted soldiers.

The king did not leave Bilbo´s side. Balin was left in the charge of the royal matters until further notice and silenced everyone´s questions about their king´s absence by a hard unyielding look, saying that his majesty is dealing with the dragon – which really did dissuade everyone from asking any further.

When Dwalin came to check on the hobbit and his friend again during the night, to see if anything has changed, he finally dared to question him about what was going on and why he wouldn´t leave, hoping that he will receive a proper answer this time.  

The king only cast his eyes down and shook his head. “He told me to stay.” He said, but Dwalin did not miss the anger, frustration and confusion in his voice.

He knew Thorin was not far away from panicking, but he had to admit he held his ground.

“He said it was my last chance.”

Dwalin understood. At least he thought he did. The warrior told him to rest but Thorin stubbornly refused, even though he could barely hold his eyes opened.

The next day was the same. Bilbo still has not stirred, and Thorin still refused to move from the chair by his side. Dwalin brought him food, but when he returned that evening, the plate was untouched and his king still in the same position by the bed, his eyes fastened on the hobbit´s colourless face.

On the third day, he found his friend fast asleep in the chair with his hand laid upon Bilbo´s, fingers brushing against his wrist to make sure he still felt the faint heartbeat.

Dwalin did not dare to disturb him. Not when he finally fell asleep. He turned away silently, retreating to the battlegrounds to let some of his own frustration out.

* * *

 

“Thorin,” he heard a voice call. “Thorin, wake up!” He didn´t want to. He was content in this dreamless state, where his problems did not exist. The voice prodded him more and more, and he felt a cold hand shake his shoulder none-too-gently.

“Thorin, wake up, you sleepyhead!” The voice called again, this time with less patience than before. Thorin slowly started to register what was going on. First there was the pain in his left shoulder, which he reflexively scratched and squeezed, then there was the blurry person standing in front of him – the one who tried to wake him up.

A wave of panic shot though his body as he became aware that he let go of Bilbo´s wrist. He instantly blinked away the sleep and looked around, his eyes freezing on the hobbit´s face.

“Finally.” Bilbo said mirthlessly, standing straight and letting go of Thorin´s shoulder. “I was just about to get a bucket of water to wake you!” He complained, crossing his arms on his chest.

Thorin stared at him mutely, his mouth slightly agape. “Wha—“ He stuttered, still not understanding what was going on. Looking from the empty bed back to the hobbit, he rubbed his tired eyes and let out a shaky breath.

“What happened? Are you alright?” The dwarf breathed, standing up and checking Bilbo from head to toes. The hobbit ´s skin was still pale and cold but the thing that struck Thorin most was the lifeless gleam in his eyes.

Bilbo was silent, eyeing Thorin with an unnamable look. “I need to leave.” He said finally, dodging Thorin´s previous questions.

“What?” Thorin sighed, dragging a hand though his ebony mane. Was he still dreaming? Was this a bad joke? “What is going on? Why?”

Bilbo kept silent, watching Thorin´s confusion with an unreadable expression.

“You should have someone look at your shoulder.” Bilbo uttered silently, still pretending not to hear the dwarf.  

“Bilbo.”

“You are really making a mess…”

“Bilbo!” Thorin raised his voice, finally silencing the hobbit. “What is going on?”

The hobbit turned around and when he moved away, the dwarf stepped forward and caught his arm, holding him back.

“Tell me.” He pleaded, but Bilbo did not yield.

“I can´t.”

He let him go. Bilbo walked out, surprising the guards by his door, and kept walking until he reached the chamber with his dragon. Thorin wordlessly followed him, as did the old captain and his young apprentice, and when Bilbo opened the door, he found Smaug standing by the large door built as a direct exit out of the mountain just for him.

Thorin looked around the room, searching for Fíli, finding him in the other corner, with Kíli bending over him, his head pressed in the crook of his brother´s neck. Panic flooded his body and whispering Fíli´s name, he pushed past Bilbo, running to his nephews.

Falling to his knees next to them, he hesitantly touched Kíli´s shoulder with a trembling hand.

Thorin feared the worst, but when Kíli raised his head, a happy smile plastered on his face and cheeks wet from tears of happiness, he relaxed, and finally, after a long time, he smiled.

“He woke up, uncle! He woke up and called my name! He will be alright!” Kíli said, laughing and wiping his teary eyes.

Their happy moment was, however, disturbed by Smaug´s desperate whine.

Thorin abruptly stood up, looking at the restless wyrm who helped Bilbo climb on his back.

“Where are you going?” Thorin asked, growing more and more frustrated with the hobbit´s silence. “Will you come back?”

Hearing the last question, Bilbo finally turned around. Smaug nudged the giant door open but did not move from the spot. Right after that, three small tawny owls flew into the chamber from the darkness of the long corridor.

Bilbo nodded, his eyes moving from Thorin to his elder nephew.

“He still isn´t completely healed.” He said, “but he´ll live for now. We need to take care of few things.”

Bilbo turned around again, hiding the smile on his face as the owls flew over to where the three dwarves were, one sitting on Kíli´s shoulder, the second next to Fíli and the third making itself at home on Thorin´s head.

“Take care of them.” Bilbo commented.

Smaug swished his tail and walked outside, roaring when he finally got out of Erebor, and could fully spread his wings.

Thorin ran after them, only managing to catch the sight of the dragon´s retreating form, cloaked by the darkness of the moonless night.

When Thorin returned to his chambers, he stripped from his tunic and inspected his, yet again, bleeding shoulder, noticing that another line of unreadable letters disappeared, leaving only six.

* * *

 

They were gone three days.

During that period, Fíli woke up a few times, long enough for Kíli to feed him and give him some water, and then falling asleep again. Dís finally gave up on hiding in her room and visited her sons, looking like her old self again.

But even though they were getting better, and did not look like lifeless ghosts haunting the halls of the Lonely Mountain, Thorin´s shadow grew ever longer and darker.

It was as if his family´s misfortunes moved on his people instead, for the mysterious sickness claimed more and more victims. In the past days he received more and more reports of ailing people with high fevers, delusions and blackening limbs. The healers were at end of what could be wrong and Thorin himself started to doubt his reign. Durin´s day was approaching, as well as the Mourning that took place a day after and was held in reverence to all who have fallen in the Battle of Five Armies. He seriously feared the outcome of these two events if the sickness keeps spreading. 

It was on the third day, when he was sitting in his room, reading another complaint of the shortage of rooms for the sick and tools and herbs needed for the cure.

Nori slipped in again, practically materializing from the shadows and announcing that the guards sighted the dragon nearing towards the mountain.

Thorin did not need to be told twice. He bolted from his chambers, the little owl that followed him wherever he went in tow.

Ordering the guards to open the gate for Smaug, he waited. Soon enough he could hear the dull beating of his wings and the slight vibration of the stone when the dragon landed.

First thing he saw was Smaug´s giant scaly head, followed by his massive crimson body and tail.

Thorin held his breath when he spotted the hobbit on his back, and watched as he climbed down, petting the dragon´s side.

Smaug instantly walked over to Fíli, sniffing and prodding his body and shuffling on the spot like a big cat until he found the right position to lie down. Curling his long neck around the young dwarf, the dragon lost his interest in whatever was going on in the room.

Thorin did not pay any attention to the wyrm. He was fixed on the hobbit that stood by the entrance, regarding him with a slight smile.

He looked unchanged, but at the same time very different. There was something in his eyes that kept Thorin on edge.

Bilbo’s face looked relaxed at first, but after a short while, he frowned, looking around in confusion.

“Bilbo,” Thorin called, drawing the hobbit’s attention at him.

“We need to talk.” The hobbit said, turning on his heel and walking out. The owl immediately flew after him, landing on his shoulder and then jumping down to his opened palm. Bilbo silently cooed at him as he exited the room and led the way to Thorin’s personal chambers.

The king followed few steps behind, feeling slightly uneasy, yet he couldn’t place why. He sincerely hoped it was just due to the lack of sleep and his wild imagination.

Once the door of Thorin’s chamber closed behind them, Bilbo turned to him, letting the owl settle itself on his head.

“The mountain is sick.” He commented, still frowning.

This short comment made Thorin’s mind freeze and he instantly forgot all the questions he wanted to ask.

Bilbo raised his eyebrow, leaning against his table. The owl made a weird squeaky noise when Thorin kept silent.

The hobbit sighed and stepped closer to him, looking straight into his sky-blue eyes. The hard slap across his face was something Thorin did not see coming.

He pressed his hand against the offended cheek, finally snapping out of his trance. “What was that for?!” Thorin asked, taking a step back.

“That was for your negative attitude and doubts.” The hobbit said, huffing angrily.

That was another thing that made Thorin stop and think about what he just heard.

“Wha- how can you tell?” The dwarf wondered, rubbing the last bits of pain off his cheek. Bilbo grinned at him, pressing a finger to his lips.

“That is a secret.” He whispered. Thorin gaped at him, not knowing what to say.

Bilbo sighed and rolled his eyes.

“What happened to you?” The dwarf asked, eyeing Bilbo with a slight frown.

“It is… difficult to say.” Bilbo admitted, looking thoughtfully. “How much do you know about dragons?”

“Not much.”

The hobbit smiled again, his eyes gaining that mysterious unsettling gleam again which sent shivers down Thorin´s back.

“I think I should clarify certain things. But first, tea.”

And so, after Thorin sent the servants to fetch some tea, he found himself sitting on the chair opposite Bilbo, watching as the hobbit poured himself some kind of herbal tea.

He sat there in silence, patiently listening to everything Bilbo said – he spoke about the time when Smaug hatched from the egg that was once the Arkenstone, how he saved him, and how they bonded; he spoke of everything what Beorn told him about the dragons and how the elder Smaug made the Arkenstone into an egg.

“Our minds are joined, and we can feel each other´s pain.” Bilbo said, calmly sipping his tea, while Thorin squirmed in his seat, still feeling slightly at edge.

“Most importantly,” Bilbo continued, “if Smaug was to die, I would die with him.” He said calmly, as if he was describing the weather. “The magic he poured into me when he brought me back from the dead keeps me alive. He created a bond between us. After the war, I found Fíli and Kíli´s tent, and I overheard the healer´s conversation. I asked Smaug to heal him, but he was too young to comprehend the true extent of his magic. He unintentionally created a bond between himself and your nephew. He repressed that bond, which resulted in Fíli´s blackouts and later, his deep sleep. Five days ago, he finally understood what he had done. He knew that severing the bond between himself and Fíli would take almost all of his magic and focus. He knew the risk – if he failed to severe only the bond he did not mean to create he would kill me.”

Bilbo took a sip of his tea, ignoring Thorin´s gaping face and continued. “We left because Smaug needed to repair our weakening link. I cannot, however, tell you how much that changed me because only Smaug knows that, and he refuses to tell me.” He smiled, setting the cup down.”But I think he might have…added some spells. He was very vocal about all the dwarves and their lack of proper manners.”He said, clearly thinking of Dáin, or his brat.

Thorin followed Bilbo´s image and set his own cup down, clearing his throat.

“I´ve heard about few incidents,” he said, “and I am sorry on behalf of my…less tutored kin. I have chosen two of my trusted solders as your personal guards. I wanted to present them to you the day you said Smaug has found out what is wrong with Fíli.”

“I don´t think those will be needed now.” Bilbo commented, pouring himself more tea.

“Nonetheless, I would feel better if you kept them by your side.”

Bilbo looked like he was considering the thought, so Thorin stood up and walked over to the hearth, staring into the flames.

They talked till the late night after that, although only about trivial things. Thorin then left the room, settling with the fact that he was going to sleep on the couch again. He ordered Bilbo´s guards to stand by the door and returned to his study where Nori was already waiting for him with a big, face-splitting grin plastered over his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... dunno what to say... Owls are back!! I´m going to write the next chapter coz I feel the need to jump out of a window for writing such boring chapter -_-
> 
> Anyway- comments are still welcome!


	22. Visiting Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am dead tired.... I cannot even think straight.
> 
> *sigh* I don´t even know what to write... I am gonna collapse soon... fucking spring.  
> Well, I hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> *Zayroen is still busy -_-*  
> *Thanks goes to Szabi who tolerates my shit*  
> ***YAY FUCKING 25K VIEWS!!***
> 
> OH! Yeah, I drew something... http://shaerahaek.tumblr.com/post/81698389306/what-if-smaug-decided-he-was-lonely-so-he-made  
> SMAUG BABIES!!! SO many Smaug babieeees!!! Kinda based on the fic, but well... I love drawing dragon babes.

The next day, Thorin woke up with a book on his face and an aching back. He really should have moved at least on the couch he has grown to hate since Bilbo moved into his chambers. Sleeping behind the table was not a particularly great idea, not to mention he fell asleep on the papers he was reading, so the first thing he did after going to wash himself, was spending an hour trying to scrub off the lines of ink imprinted on his cheek.

The fact that one of Bilbo´s little owls managed to sneak into his room again, perched itself on the bedpost and silently cooed at him the whole morning, did not improve his mood a bit.

At that moment, he finally made up his mind and called five most skilled workers, ordering them to renovate and prepare a room in the upper levels that he could gift to the hobbit.

This being done, he remembered that he should pick up some clothes, for surely he would spend some more nights in the study. At least until the chamber he requested was ready.

Soon enough, Thorin found himself standing in front of the door leading to his chamber, again not sure whether he should knock or not. Deciding that he is indeed the king, and it makes no sense to do it, he pushed the door open and walked in.

“What are you doing?” Thorin sighed when he saw the hobbit, sprawled on his back across his bed, with his head hanging from the edge. The king also did not miss the mess in the room, as well as the fact that Bilbo was using one of his tunics – and nothing else - as a sleeping grown. Thorin would lie if he said it did not catch his full attention.

“I don´t know what to wear!” Bilbo complained, kicking his furry feet.

Thorin looked utterly baffled as he watched the hobbit roll around the bed like a little spoilt dwarfling.

“Honestly? That is your problem?” The dwarf commented, rolling his eyes. “Unbelievable.” He mumbled before turning around and leaving the room, closing the door behind himself before he could be hit by a pillow Bilbo sent flying after him. He did not even care that he practically went there for nothing. He just did not want his mood to get any lower.

He really needed a proper day off. Too bad kings could not afford such thing. Lost in his thoughts, he made his way toward the throne chamber, mentally getting ready for another boring day spent sitting on a very uncomfortable throne, and listening to all kinds of complaints and requests.

* * *

 

Making Thorin turn around and leave in an instance was child´s play. Bilbo felt very accomplished.

“You can come out!” He called, chuckling.

“That was close!” Uzmek commented as she stepped out of the wardrobe.

“I still don´t understand why he can´t know about you.” Bilbo wondered, turning to lie on his stomach.

“It is more about propriety than anything else. Ordinary servants should not be in His Majesty´s quarters. Only I could not resist seeing you again!” She said, roaming through Bilbo´s clothes.

“You silly dwarf.” Bilbo chuckled. “I don´t think Thorin would mind if I talked to him.” He said but Uzmek still shook her head and protested, saying she would rather not take the risk.

After careful consideration and short bantering, Bilbo finally put some sensible clothes on, bid the dwarrowdam good-bye and finally went out to do what he had in plan for a long time – to spend some time with each of the members of Thorin´s company without having to worry about anything.

* * *

 

That was, however, easier said than done. Bilbo realized his mistake of not telling them beforehand as soon as he closed the door behind. He had no idea what his dwarves were doing or where they were – or at least most of them. He knew he could find Dori in his little tea shop, and Ori would probably be in the library. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would find Dwalin in the training grounds or brooding behind Thorin, but he wasn´t sure whether the warrior would have the luxury to spend time with him.

Deciding that he would probably find Ori first, he asked the old captain – who, along Ilar, shadowed his every step – to lead him straight to the library.

Telling them to wait outside and assuring them he will be alright, he entered the giant chamber.

He went there to look for Ori to finally enjoy few moment of casual talking about a thing they had in common, which was books and maps. His hopes for an easy conversation and a change of knowledge, however, literally vaporized at the sight he found in there, was something he absolutely did not see coming. He found Dwalin literally squishing the book-worm dwarf between himself and a shelf filled with old scrolls of unknown origin, snogging the living lights out of him.

Bilbo kept staring at them for a good while, dumbfounded and stunned into utter silence, until Ori let out a panicked squeak and slapped Dwalin´s arm until the king´s guard let him go.

“Bilbo!” Ori piped, his face red as a ripe tomato. Dwalin turned around abruptly and stepped back, looking positively panicked and caught off guard.

Composing himself rather quickly, the head of the guards straightened his back and switched the startled look for a more menacing one.

“You saw nothing!” Dwalin threatened, pointing his finger at the hobbit.

At that moment, Bilbo calculated just how much power he suddenly acquired over him, and smiled the most mischievous smug smile he could muster.

“Oh, I saw everything.” Bilbo said, still grinning.

“You will not say a word to anyone!” The warrior threatened, fidgeting on the spot.

Bilbo laughed, looking over at Ori, who was still blushing and wringing the end of his knitted scarf behind the other dwarf.

“I will see what I can do.” The hobbit said, faking thoughtfulness. Dwalin pushed past him, not breaking eye contact and still attempting to scare him with his, somewhat uneasy, glare.

Once they were alone, Ori groaned and tugged at the hobbit´s arm.

“You are not going to tell Dori, are you?” He asked with a voice full of desperation.

“Of course not!” Bilbo assured him, petting his shoulder. “But Dwalin doesn´t have to know.”

* * *

 

After spending few hours with Ori, talking about maps and books, but mostly teasing him about Dwalin, Bilbo decided it was time to move on and pay a visit to the eldest of the Ri brothers and pick up some new tea blends Dori promised to get for him when he last met the dwarf.

If his two guards noticed the excited and smug look on his face as he exited the library, they did not comment on it.

He was very tempted to slip the little information about Dwalin to Dori, but fought the urge down, both for Ori´s sake and the fact that Dwalin would not see the dawn of the next day if the eldest Ri brother new.

Picking up the new tea blends and learning a gossip or two he bid the oblivious dwarf farewell and took his leave.

* * *

 

Next on his list was Oin but when he arrived at the door to his chambers, he was met with disappointment for when the said door opened it did not reveal the old physician. Instead of him, there stood a young red-haired dwarf with a short bushy beard that very much resembled Gloin´s. Bilbo did not need to guess who the dwarf was.

„Hello,“ Bilbo greeted politely, a little bit amused by the lad´s startled expression. „Do you know where I could find your uncle or father?“ He asked, trying to hide his mirth.

The lad only stared at him wordlessly, opening and closing his mouth several times.

„Umm...“ Bilbo started, looking a bit unsure of what to do. Meanwhile Ilar behind him cleared his throat, which turned out to snap Gimli out of his surprised state.

„My father is in the vaults.“ The young dwarf said, his eyes never leaving Bilbo´s face. „And uncle Oin is in the lower levels of the mountain, helping the sick people. But he will be back in the evening.“

„Thank you for letting me know.“  The hobbit said, dipping his head. „I will come back later then.“

Gimli mutely bowed, still not looking away from him.

„Weird lad,“ Bilbo mumbled when he was far enough. „I wonder what was wrong with him.“

„His consternation was quite understandable,“ Ilar piped in from behind, a small smile playing on his lips. „It is not every day you meet an 'Azugul Zabadith.“

„A fancy title, but I still don´t see why you dwarves call me so. I am not really a lord of any kind.“

„But you riddled and tamed the northern wyrm! How can you not consider yourself a Lord of Drakes?“ The younger dwarf said in a genuine excitement and a twinkle in his eyes.

The old captain only rolled his eyes and shook his head.

„I did riddle with the old Smaug, but I did not tame him.“ The hobbit explained, earning a confused frown form Ilar.

„But you call your dragon Smaug, do you not? The dwarves say you captured his soul and made him serve you.“

„Lad,“ the captain warned, noticing Bilbo´s surprise.

„It´s alright,“ Bilbo said, assuring the captain that he didn´t mind. „I did not, however, capture anyone´s soul. He hatched!“

„He...what?“ Both dwarves asked at once, making Bilbo laugh.

„He hatched. From an egg. Well, from the Arkenstone actually. I think the old Smaug just wanted to spite your dear king and turned the jewel into his egg.“

The dumbstruck expression the two dwarves had was enough for him to continue.

„I found the stone and then the dragon hatched. When Thorin saw it, he...“ the hobbit fell silent, remembering what happened afterwards. The two guards exchanged a worrysome look.

„Well,“ Bilbo continued silently, „it went quite downhill from there.“ And he said no more on that subject. The two guards did not question him further when they saw the distant and sad look on his face.

* * *

 

Their next stop was at the Ur brother´s chambers and the first thing Bilbo received when the door opened was Bifur ´s fierce hug and a bump on his head from the dwarven greeting.

It warmed Bilbo´s heart to see how genuinely happy Bifur was to see him there. The captain was kind enough to translate what the dwarf was saying and Bilbo was happy to finally have a nice and long conversation with the handicapped dwarf.

Bifur insisted to join the hobbit as his guard but Bilbo assured him the two soldiers were enough and that he didn´t need to trouble himself. He received a little wooden toy bird and just as he was about to ask where his cousins were, Bofur walked in, freezing on the spot when he noticed them.

„Well, now that you are here, you need to have a drink with me, Bilbo!“ Bofur exclaimed right away and proceeded to take out five tankards from the cupboard and a small barrel of mead. The two guards protested at first but Bofur knew his way with words and soon after that, the five of them sat at the table, laughing over Bofur´s stories from his childhood.

Few hours and three cups of mead later, Bilbo finally decided he had enough of mead and left, saying there are few things he wants to take care of.

* * *

 

There were still some of his friends left he wanted to visit, but there was one important and quite embarrassing thing he needed to take care of first. He had a craving. One that only one dwarf in Erebor could satisfy.

Smaug would probably be quite outraged if he knew, but Bilbo learnt to hide certain things from his dear scaly child for the sake of them both.

He was sure that the certain dwarf would indulge his need, although he was not very sure if they had all the... necessary ingredients.

And so he found himself standing before the door that lead to the dwarf he had in mind the whole day.

Pushing the door open, he entered, walking over to him, and biting his lips shyly he asked for the thing he yearned for:

„Salad,“ he said, „Bombur, I need salad or I will surely perish!“

The ginger rotund dwarf regarded him with an amused look, crossing his arms on his chest.

„I thought you would never come!“ He laughed heartily, giving the hobbit a friendly hug.

Bilbo squealed in delight as Bombur led him to the collar where they stashed the food and spices.

„I knew you would come eventually,“ the dwarf admitted as he searched though the boxes with the few vegetables  Erebor had. „I made sure we had some vegetables prepared just for you!“

„I could not thank you enough!“ Bilbo cried as the dwarf loaded his arms with greens.

As they were walking back to the main kitchen, too emerged in their talk, a young dwarf with hands loaded with bags of flour bumped into the hobbit, making them both stagger and drop the things they were holding.

When the dwarf received a scolding from Bombur for not being careful enough and wasting the flour, the lad apologized, running off to get a broom to clean the mess up.

However, when Bombur turned back to Bilbo, he found the hobbit kneeling on the floor, frowning as he inspected a handful of the wholemeal.   

„Bombur,“ Bilbo said slowly, the frown on his face intensifying, „get some more light, please.“ 

„What´s wrong?“ The ginger dwarf asked when he brought over a torch.

„Oh Yavanna!“ The hobbit whispered, showing the flour to his friend. „Where is it from?“

„The Iron Hills´ caravan. We are still awfully low on general goods, and Dale has to sustain its own people. There is not enough rye for everyone during the winter, so we needed to expand the farms both here in Erebor and in Iron Hills. Even though we are not very good farmers.“

„Dear Valar!“ Bilbo exclaimed, dropping the flour. „Did you use it yet?“

„What do you mean?“

„Did you use it to bake something for the court?“

„No, we still used the one from Dale until now. I only sent the lad to restock the pantry today. We have not yet used any of the Iron Hills´ supplements.“

„Let me guess,“ Bilbo said, his face twisting into an unhappy grimace, „only the lower levels used them.“

„Yeah,“ Bombur mumbled, looking at the hobbit in confusion, „how did you know?“

„Oh bugger!“ The hobbit cursed, „don´t use any of it until I come back! I need to talk to Thorin.“ He said, already retreating from the royal kitchens.“

„Bilbo, what´s wrong?“ The ginger dwarf cried after him.

„Make sure nobody uses any of it!“ Bilbo yelled from the corridor, running to the king´s study, his two guards running after him.

* * *

 

„You dwarves are the most oblivious beings in the whole Middle-Earth!“ The hobbit reviled as he stormed into Thorin´s study, opening the door with such force that it hit the wall and bounced off it, closing after him. “How are you even still alive?!”

“Rude,” Thorin mumbled, raising an eyebrow.

“I know what the source of your mysterious plague is, my king.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would be very lovely...
> 
> *drops dead on the floor*


	23. Smaug´s Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *evil maniacal laughter*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very satisfied with this one.... Hopefully, you will be too. 
> 
> *Thank you goes to Szabi, who effectively kept pissing me off during the whole day, and gave me this wonderful idea*  
> **The Hobbit LEGO game totally rocks!**

Smaug wouldn´t say he was a spoilt dragon. No, he was definitely not. However, his da got snatched away by that unworthy ugly dwarf king to attend some stupid council, so his indignation was very justified. He didn´t see him in three days! Three! He was in the big stony room, laying on the cold floor and watching over two young dwarfling brothers as if he was their mother. He wanted Bilbo to come play with him, or at least Beorn. Or someone!

Kíli was fun, but he was very drawn back because of his brother – even though he wakes up almost every day. Smaug needed to get away, and he needed to go very soon or else he will lose his mind. Even his little owlets left him for a promise of food, which might actually be a trick the sly dwarven king devised just to keep them away from him.

He had not realized he shuffled, shifted and whined all this time, so when he felt a hand tentatively pat his side he startled, jumping slightly and looking around. Kíli retracted his hand, taking one step back.

“What is wrong?” He asked with an uncertain frown on his face.

“I want to go out!” The dragon growled, slamming his tail against the floor. “And I want to see Bilbo!”

“I heard Bilbo helps uncle with the rye and food supplies or something. But wait, do you want to go, like out-out? Or out into Erebor? Because if you want to go roaming through Erebor, I would advise you against it.”

“Why?” Smaug asked indignantly.

The young prince´s only answer to that were his raised eyebrows. They stared at each other for a good while before Smaug puffed out a cloud of smoke from his nostrils and turned his head away.

“It´s not like I´m going to eat you dwarves. You are disgusting!”

“How do you even know that?!” Kíli squeaked, covering his brother with his own body.

Smaug gave him a wide toothy grin and stood up, walked over to the nearest wall and rubbed his sides against the rough surface to loosen some old and scratchy scales.

* * *

In the end, Smaug indeed managed to talk Kíli into getting extra guards for Fíli and a messenger who would warn the other guards that the dragon is bored and wants to explore a bit.

Even though the guards were warned, they were still unprepared for a big red-scaled fire-breathing dragon to climb the uneven stony walls over their heads or stroll across the bridges – which was quite the sight since the dragon was big and some of the bridges too narrow. Smaug had to grip the sides and kind of slide forward to get to the other side.

He took his time to explore every level of the mountain. The upper levels were mostly uninhabited but he visited them anyway since he never saw so many furnishings, tapestries and vases in his life. There was a little uproar when he moved to the middle levels inhabited by nobles, so to prevent any further conflicts and a headache from listening to the complaints and shrieks he moved further. He arrived to a part where he could stretch his wings and crane his head without any problem. It was one huge hall teeming with dwarves and dwarven children. There were little stands with various things Smaug did not find important, but Bilbo loved to browse through when they lived in The Shire. There was also music which could be heard even few levels above and that was what drew Smaug inside.

However, as soon as the dwarves noticed the scaly wyrm, they stopped in the middle of whatever they were doing and stared at him, unsure of what to do. The guards stationed themselves in a circle around Smaug and shouted out to the people that everything is alright and the dragon will not hurt them.

Smaug ignored them and moved forward which made the dwarves step aside, creating a corridor for him to go though.

He stopped by the corner where the musicians were and laid down. The dwarves looked terrified, glancing at the guards in question, clearly lost at what to do.

The wyrm shuffled impatiently, whining at the musicians, until the bravest of them took up his fiddle and started playing. Seeing that the dragon whipped his tail from side to side in the rhythm, the rest of them started playing too, laughing as they watch Smaug rock from side to side as if he was dancing.

After the rest of the dwarves saw that the drake, indeed, meant no harm, they resumed their shopping and gambling and whatnot, actually quite entertained by the dragon.

* * *

 

When Smaug had enough, which was just as the sun was setting – or at least he though so because it was hard to tell the time in the shadow of the mountain, he left to explore the very bottom level of Erebor.

He climbed down the wall, much to the miners´ dismay, stopping from time to time only to shove the lamps that hung from the bridges all the way to the bottom. The miners, too, stopped their work to see what was going on and, most importantly, who dared to mess with their lights. They all hung on their ropes and leaned out of the tunnels and small windows to look at the dragon playing with the lamps.

The fun ended when one of the lamps broke and disappeared into the depths of the mountain. The miners and the drake watched the chain with the lamp fall in silence, and when it hit the ground with a loud crash, they flipped and shooed the dragon away before he could break more things.

Smaug quickly scrambled away, quite surprised by the miners´ outburst, but at least he had the decency to feel guilty. Pouting, the dragon returned to the ground level, climbed one of the giant arch-buttresses near a minor staircase and lied down.

He felt Bilbo´s irritation rise and as he tried to calm his father´s temper down, he noticed that he´s being watched.

Squinting into the shadows, Smaug carefully got down from the arch and sniffed the air.

“Hello!” He heard. The dragon glanced down at his feet and saw a little dwarven child standing there, staring at him while tugging at the end of his green shawl. “Can you talk?” The dwarfling asked.

Smaug sat down, completely in awe. Every single dwarf he met today trembled in fear upon meeting him. Yet this little child comes up to him, unafraid and unwavering, asking him whether he can talk.

Soon enough, four more dwarflings stepped out from the shadows, joining the first one.

“Can you talk?” They asked, “Will you play with us? Can you breathe fire?”

The dragon silenced them with one mild growl and crouched, laying his head on the ground to look the children in the eye – even though he still had a problem with that since they were very, very small.

Smaug grinned, feeling genuinely happy. “Do you really want to play with me?”

And so Smaug, the dragon from Under the Mountain, played with the children until they were tired, using his tale as a swing and his back for carrying them around.

* * *

 

Bilbo never had a bigger headache than he had now.

It was madness. Pure madness. Offering his help to solve the problem with the crops and spoilt rye was the biggest mistake he has ever done. And he didn´t mean the actual sorting of the goods. No, he meant the pointless meetings that were held to decide of further supplies. He really viewed Thorin in a completely different light after he went through seven different meetings with the councilmen and nobles. He truly felt sorry for the king now. They were insufferable.

Childlike and stupid.

They only saw their own needs and nothing else. Bilbo decided that if he was ever going to take over the mountain, they would be the first ones who would end up in the marshes.

He wanted to sleep so much. The thought of collapsing into his – or rather – Thorin´s soft giant bed was just so tempting and irresistible. He didn´t even wait for the attendants to officially end the convention. Once he judged that it is only going to be a discussion about expenses, he stood up and marched out.

He was so lost in his thought that he didn´t even notice Thorin trailing after him.

Just as he was about to take the turn into the king´s chambers he felt a hand on his arm, effectively stopping him from going further.

“Bilbo,” Thorin said, his expression strangely soft. “Come with me.” He said, turning around and walking off.

“I really am tired now, Thorin!” Bilbo whined, throwing his hands in the air. “Can´t it wait?”

“No.” Thorin cut him off, “come on, follow me!”

The hobbit obliged, even though he was really close to lying down and passing out.

“Why are you leading me into Smaug´s room?” Bilbo asked exasperatedly, tiredly lagging behind the king.

“You´re going to see soon enough. Not that way!” Thorin called when Bilbo took the wrong turn.

“I though you… weren´t we going to visit Smaug?”

Thorin chuckled as he stopped in front of an unknown ornamented door.

“No, we were not.” He said and stretched his hand out offering it to the hobbit.

Bilbo watched him with suspicion, his eyes flickering between the dwarf´s face and his hand. Squinting, Bilbo took the hand and let himself be gently tugged forward to stand with the king.

“I am happy you are happy with your accommodation,” Thorin started regally, raising his chin proudly, “however, my back is suffering on the couch that you, whether intentionally or not, made me sleep on ever since you came, so I decided to prepare a little gift for you.” The king said, opening the door and leading Bilbo in.

“Eru!” The hobbit gasped, looking around. “I-I… “

The room was almost like a hobbit hole. Even though it was big, it was cozy, warm and just perfect. There was a big bed in one corner, a hearth in the other, a table with stacked papers, bookshelves filled with books and scrolls, a huge map of Middle-Earth on the wall, couple of other maps around it, there was even a small balcony too!

“Thank you.” Thorin felt Bilbo squeeze his hand, “it is perfect.”

* * *

 Thorin made his way to his quarters with a clumsily hidden smile.

He had his quarters back – which meant he could finally get a proper sleep, Bilbo had his own room and he seemed to be satisfied enough, not to mention it was very satisfying to watch the hobbit run from one corner of the room to another, fawning over the furniture and fabrics like a little child.

His pleasant mood, however, was soon cut short by Nori.

“Looks like you´ve got your bed again.” He said, cleaning his nails with a dagger.

“Have you come to mock me again? How do you even know it?”

“The walls have ears and eyes, my king.” The spy grinned, sheathing the small weapon. “But I haven´t come to mock you today. I have come to report to you some… interesting events.”

“Inside.” The king commanded, entering his quarters with the spy in tow.

“I´m listening.” Thorin said as he sat on his chair.

Nori looked around shortly and continued. “Looks like the rebellion is grouping up again. I caught a wind of some stir among your enemies and it seems like they have come to life recently. They may plan another attack.”

“Brilliant.” Thorin mumbled tediously, sagging in his seat. He felt like he suddenly needed a good drink again. “So, should I await a direct attack? Or will they come to severe my head whilst I sleep?”

Nori rolled his eyes. “You really should take this more seriously. Was the first attack not enough?” He asked, referring to the day when Bilbo first came to Erebor. “That arrow was meant to kill you. Your only luck was that the idiot panicked.”

“And Bilbo received the arrow instead of me.” Thorin shot back with irritation.

“I have my spies all around Erebor, but you seem to favour the idea of walking on your own most of the time. I thought you knew better than that. Where is Dwalin by the way. Isn´t he supposed to guard you all the time?”

“I can protect myself just fine.” Thorin protested, but the tone of his voice betrayed his uneasiness. Nori didn´t miss that.

“I don´t want to be the one who says “I told you” as they bury your body.” Nori barked, raising his voice. “ I know Bilbo’s bottom can prove to be very distractive at times, but that is no excuse to make yourself vulnerable to your enemies.”

Thorin shot him a warning look, non-verbally telling him to watch his words.

“No, you have no right to look at me like that. King or not, I have not joined your company and gone through the journey with you only to see you being killed because of your own stubborness. It almost happened once.” He said angrily, “have you forgotten about the war?”

The king shifted in his seat, taking a chalice of wine that stood on the table. “I have not.” He said silently, sniffing the red liquid, silently wondering how Bilbo got his hands on Dorwinion wine.

“Then get more personal guards!” The spymaster said, and continued to nag the king about his feeble security. Thorin was aware of the danger, but he didn´t want to show any weakness.

Sipping the wine tentatively, his face twisted in a grimace. That wine definitely did not taste like Dorwinion.

“What the—“ Thorin stuttered, dropping the cup as he felt his hand and tongue go numb. Nori spun around and frowned, crossing the distance between them in few long strides.

“What´s wrong?” He asked picking up the chalice and smelling the rim of it and carefully dipping his finger in the remaining liquid, tasting it.

“You fool!” He cried, throwing the cup across the room and immediately stepping closer to the king, and catching him just before he could fall to the floor. “It´s poison! You need to get it out!” The spymaster said, as he carefully laid the dwarf on the floor to make him spit out the froth easier.

“GUARDS!” Nori yelled as he watched the king grip his chest.

“I can´t breathe!” Thorin gasped weakly.

The guards ran in, prepared for a fight.

“Go get Oin, you useless idiots! NOW!” The spy yelled as he tried to keep his king conscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA! Did you think this would be all about Smaug???? *distant evil laughing*   
> Today I will feast on your negative thoughts!:D   
> Comment my lovelies, comment!


	24. Taking Care of Dwarves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I could not resist! Sassy Bilbo is the best Bilbo!  
> Enjoy some scolding... maybe a little fluff at the end. But only tiny little bit...
> 
> Is the story getting boring yet?  
> I would like to know when I cross the wrong line.
> 
> *Thank you, Szabi, for correcting everything*  
> **Watching Hannibal and writing doesn´t get along well...**

After Thorin left, Bilbo spent only a short while going through the shelves and drawers to get a little picture about where all the things were before stopping in front of the giant ornamented wooden wardrobe, browsing through the clothes there. Many of them were the ones from Thorin´s tailor – judging by the eccentric patterns and quite revealing design. Some of them, he thought, might have been from another tailor, since they were closer to the hobbitish fashion.

Once finished, his whole attention was solely turned to the big bed covered with furs and pillows and silk, looking just so sinfully comfortable. And yes, it really was. Bilbo barely managed to shed his clothes before he fell on the bed, and afterwards, the hobbit definitely forgot about every pointless argument he had to go through during the day. The tenderness engulfed him and he let himself be slowly overtaken by the long-awaited sleep, dreaming about soft green plains filled with fragrant flowers and fresh breeze.

The waking up never felt so wondrous. The silky sheets slid over his skin, sending pleasant chills down his spine. He cracked an eye open, scanning the still dark room.

Bilbo squirmed, snuggling deeper under the sheets and furs to keep the morning chill away. The fires in the hearth had gone out long ago, he guessed, but made no attempt to light them on. Not now while he could still enjoy the warmth of the bed.

However, his peaceful rest was soon disturbed by a loud and hurried knocking on the door.

“My lord!” He heard Ilar´s muffled voice from outside, rolling his eyes at the title. “There´s a dwarf demanding to see you.”

“Who is it?” Bilbo asked drowsily, still refusing to acknowledge the world outside the borders of his furry den.

“He says his name is Nori and that it is really important.” The dwarf said, albeit somewhat hesitantly.

“Let him in,” Bilbo sighed, sticking his messy head out from beneath the heap of covers when he heard the door close.

“I hope that whatever you are here for is really important…” The hobbit huffed dreamily, shuffling around to stick his head out on the other side to face the dwarf. “What are you-- what´s wrong?”

Bilbo has seen Nori pull this kind of serious face only few times – and that usually foreshadowed bad things.

“It´s Thorin,” the spymaster said, staring at the ground. Bilbo hesitantly sat up, his face marred by an uncertain frown.

“What happened?”

* * *

“You waited until the morning to tell me? Bugger you and all your excuses!” Bilbo yelled as he sped up down the stairs, Nori, Ilar and the captain close behind him. The hobbit didn´t even bother to make himself look hobbit-y and presentable before stepping out of his room – since it all was quite useless among all these lewd dwarves anyway. Once the spy told him that Thorin has been poisoned he grabbed the first set of robes he found and put them on, not even bothering to fasten the belt properly or buttoning up the shirt. “What have you been thinking?! Have you been waiting to see if he holds up until the morning? Did the council already start one of their pointless meetings to consider a new king?”

“It´s not like he´s dead.” Nori piped in mildly, looking positively guilty. “Oin came almost immediately and we made sure he would survive the night.”

Bilbo then stopped abruptly and spun around to face the star-headed dwarf.

“You are a spy, Nori. You, of all the people should know how poisons work.” The hobbit said as if he was scolding a child, which – in Nori´s eyes – made him look even more dangerous. “If I wanted to poison a king, I wouldn´t use a poison that could be easily cured, now would I?”

“I can assure you that he´s alr-“

“What did you do?” Bilbo asked, already marching forward, not even bothering to look at the spy as he questioned him.

“Well, I made him throw up, since the wine he drank could only be the source of the poison. Then Oin came and gave him something. I think it was charcoal, but I´m not sure--”

“Good. At least one of you is intelligent enough.” Bilbo noted silently, making Nori squeak in indignation.

“Hey! I´m an assassin! I make poisons, I don´t cure them!”

The two guards shared an uncertain and suspicious look, but kept quiet.

* * *

The corridor to Thorin´s chamber was unusually crowded. There were chancellors, nobles and guards everywhere, arguing and discussing and whispering among each other, only few of them noticing the approaching hobbit.

Ilar and the captain positioned themselves on the hobbit´s sides and pushed the other dwarves away as he confidently made his way towards the door.

As soon as Bilbo spoke up, however, the whole hall fell into silence.

“Step aside! I am here to see the king.” Bilbo announced, his voice hard and unwavering.

The heavy armoured guards crossed their lances, blocking the door. “Nobody is allowed to enter,” once of them said.

“Son,” Nori said as he stepped closer, putting a gentle hand on the hobbit´s shoulder, “clear the way before you come to harm. Do you know to whom you speak?”

The other dwarves started whispering among themselves in Khuzdul, but Bilbo did not need to know the language to understand that they´re talking about him – the 'Azugul Zabadith. One of the guards shifted and threw the others a hesitant look.

The hobbit decided he had enough and just walked right in ducking their lances.

“I said nobody is allowed in!” Dáin said, visibly irritated. “Oh, it´s you!” He added when he saw that it was the hobbit who entered. Bilbo ignored him and marched straight to the king´s bed. While Dwalin, Balin and Oin looked quite revealed, Stonehelm sported a thunderous expression, much like his father.

Bilbo ignored their murmurs as he sat on the bed. “What did you give him?” He asked, placing one hand on the king´s forehead and checking his pulse with the other.

“Water with powdered charcoal every hour and a sleeping draught,” Oin replied, shuffling closer. “He was completely disoriented and said he couldn´t feel his limbs.” The dwarf added.

The hobbit hummed as he wiped the sweat from Thorin´s brow. “Get someone who can bring the strongest tea from Dori. That helps a lot. He´s been poisoned with Monkshood.”

Dwalin nodded and as he was to walk out, Stonehelm stepped into the conversation.

“Everybody is just fine with that?” He growled, “you just let him walk in and bark orders at everyone? How do you even know that helps, huh? What if it was you who poisoned him?” The prince of Iron Hills asked, his face twisted with arrogance and disdain. Dáin looked as if he wanted to say something but as soon as Bilbo stood up and walked over to the lord´s son he shut his mouth.

“If you had fulfilled your duties like a proper prince and attended the councils, you would know that I spent three days away from this room and had no time to get my hands on Monkshood. How do I know it´s Monkshood? Because I am a hobbit, not a thickskulled arrogant dwarf! I know the symptoms because the flower grows in every hobbit´s garden and from time to time, someone gets poisoned. It´s also called Wolf´s Bane for we use it to keep the wolves away from the borders of The Shire! Try finding out all the information and evidence before you start throwing blame at someone. It would help you look more mature and less like a little spoilt child with no manners.” Bilbo finished with a decisive jab of his finger to Stonehelm´s chest, spun on the heel and marched back to sit at Thorin´s side, leaving the prince in utter astonishment.

“Leave, all of you!” The hobbit ordered, “and get me the tea.”

Stonehelm´s stunned expression quickly changed into anger but when his father sent him a warning look, he stormed out of the chamber.

Dwalin could only hardly hide his smirk and amusement, while Balin professionally held a neutral face. Oin remained oblivious to almost everything due to the lack of his hearing, mixing another dose of charcoal with water. Bilbo took the drink from his hands and thanked him, politely telling him to leave.

The hobbit waited till the door closed, put the cup on the table and returned to the king on the bed.

“I said everyone should leave.” He said quietly.

“Well, you´re not leaving either.” Dáin answered sitting next to him on the bed.

“Shouldn´t you be lecturing your son?”

“I don´t think I need to. You did that just a while ago and in a very appealing way.” Dáin smirked, leaning closer and whispering. “It left me in a very amazed and slightly aroused state.”

The dwarf´s hand crept onto Bilbo´s thigh, and the hobbit only barely restrained himself from slapping him. Instead of that, he gifted Dáin with a suggestive smile.

“Do you know who poisoned him?” Bilbo asked, using all his strength to keep his voice even.

“I have no idea.” The lord answered, eyes sparkling as the hobbit shyly touched his calloused hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah…” Dáin breathed, looking down on their linked hands.

The shy, gentle touch, however, quickly changed into a painful burning grip. “Then. Get. _Out_!” Bilbo hissed, and when Dáin withdrew his hand with a yelp, he found it blistered and burnt.

“What the—“

“Careful,” the hobbit smiled, “I would advise aloe for that. Try asking Oin.”

Dáin left the room as quickly as never, cradling his hurt hand.

“He´s going to lose that hand once I´ll be able to stand up.” Thorin murmured, startling the hobbit.

“Aren´t you supposed to be asleep?” Bilbo shook his head at the dwarf, checking his temperature again.

“Oin´s draught is not as strong as he thinks it is.” The king offered, struggling to sit up but Bilbo pushed him down, which made the dwarf grumble at him.

“How do you feel?”

“I still can´t feel my hands.”

“That´s fine. It should stop in few hours.” The hobbit started babbling, fussing around the dwarf as if he was a little child.

“Bilbo…”

“I have sent Dwalin to get you some tea. That helps too.”

“Bilbo!” Thorin called, this time more forcefully. That made the hobbit stop. “That wine was meant for you.”

“I know.” Bilbo said, smiling weakly. “And you were stupid enough to drink it.”

“This is serious—“

“It is really not. I told you before. I can´t die unless someone kills Smaug. But I have to say that you really have some incompetent enemies.”

“Don´t joke about this!” Thorin scolded half-heartedly, failing to keep the frown on his face. “I was just lucky.”

“Or they were just stupid.” They both started sniggering. “One tries to kill you and hits me with an arrow, the other one tries to poison me and you end up sweating in a bed.”

“The irony, right?” Thorin noted and Bilbo shook his head.

“You should rest.” He said, “here, drink this.”

“Is it more sleep-drought?”

“Maybe it is poison.” Bilbo grinned and helped the king drink his medicine.

* * *

When Dwalin got back with two little packets of tea from Dori, he found the hobbit fast asleep on the bed next to Thorin, curled up under a heap of furs, and holding the king´s hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you say?  
> Did you like it?  
> Who do you think is guilty?
> 
>  
> 
> Comments would be lovely.  
> We are getting dangerously close to the smexy partsssss... so you do hate Dáin and Stonehelm more? Or less?


	25. As Long as You Live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OWLS! That is all I have to say to this chapter.  
> Kinda un-beta-ed.  
> Also, Bagginshield...
> 
> *Zayroen is back!*  
> **And Szabi is too busy to do shit for me this week**

The sittings drew Thorin crazy. He believed that the chancellors and most of the advisors existed only to make him feel miserable.

Not even the fact that Bilbo was present made it any easier. Thinking about the said hobbit, he stealthily shifted his eyes to get a better look at him. Bilbo sat at his right side, next to Balin, leaned back and slumped in his seat with his elbow on the table. He looked rather tired and irritated as he held his eyes closed and massaged his forehead. 

Thorin long since stopped listening to the speculations about finding a substitute source of supplies of food – the lords kept complaining about his decision of making a new trade route with Mirkwood, even though Thorin´s decision was final and he already sent a message to the Elvenking. Instead of wasting his time on the other dwarves, his attention was drawn to the only hobbit in the room.

When the conversation got louder and more violent, their eyes met and Bilbo sent his way a cocky smile that only meant one thing – deal with it, I´m leaving.

And as Thorin shot up from his seat to yell at the other dwarves, Bilbo calmly stood up and walked out, his guards following closely behind him. Somewhere deep in his gut he felt another heavy weight lift, and when he finally got to his room and sank into the bath, he noticed that another line of the letters Smaug marked him with was missing.

* * *

 

It was only eleven days after the poisoning incident that Thorin finally could see clearly and did not get random heat rushes and tremors.  He successfully dealt with the Mirkwood delegates – much to his surprise over Thranduil´s cooperation and sorted out the bad rye with Bilbo´s guide. There were some that said that the rye incident was a sign of his unfit rule but the commotion was cleared as soon as the hobbit stepped in, explaining that Ergot was very common everywhere when farmers aren’t careful and could be easily overseen, even though Thorin suspected the last part was probably a lie, according to Bilbo´s nervous short smile and evasive look when he asked him about it afterwards.

Bilbo also explained that the blackened limbs were beyond saving and the only way to cure them was to cut them off, rendering many dwarves unable to continue their works. That also meant dealing with a very upset and grumpy Oin for quite a long time and a heap of problem´s for Thorin to listen to and solve.

Ever since he was poisoned, Thorin picked a routine of drinking black tea almost every day, which was not only soothing but also lured Bilbo into his chambers to share a cup with him every once in a while.

Thorin did not mind that. He did not mind that at all. He used that pleasant hour to take a break from annoying lords and their complaints to chat with the hobbit.

Just as he was going through the list of things that should be taken care of for the sake of the Anniversary of The Battle of Five Armies when he heard someone knock on his door.

The hobbit entered shortly after with a pot of hot water and a bag of tea.  

The first thing Thorin noticed was the hobbit´s attire. The dwarf inwardly swelled with satisfaction when he saw Bilbo wearing dwarvish robes. It made him look like he belonged to Erebor. He made a mental note to thank his tailor for supplying the hobbit´s wardrobe with such exquisite clothes.

Thorin quickly got back to pretending to read the papers when he realized he was staring, even though Bilbo, for some mysterious reason, refused to look at him.

“So,” Bilbo started casually while pouring the tea, “why does Dáin have a broken arm?”

Thorin smiled momentarily, covering his face with a stack of papers when he caught the hobbit´s scolding face.

“An unhappy accident.” Thorin stated, trying very hard not to laugh.

“Uh-huh…?”

“I felt… a little bit out of practice so I asked him to train with me.”

Bilbo´s raised eyebrows were enough for Thorin to continue. “We sparred, he lost, I _accidentally_ broke his arm…” the dwarf king shrugged, “it was a fair match.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes and passed him his tea cup. “You are unbelievable.”

“It was really his own fault. He should have seen it coming.” The king chuckled, replaying the match over and over in his head. He felt a sadistic satisfaction at finally taking care of Dáin´s lecherous tendencies towards the hobbit.

Deciding that he didn´t want to know more of the story, Bilbo asked about the things Thorin was currently working on. The dwarf, however, felt silent for a long while, staring at his lap with a deep frown.

“What´s wrong?” Bilbo asked, putting his cup down and taking the stack of papers to read them himself. “Preparation for the anniversary of— oh.“ The hobbit´s breath got caught up in his throat.

Thorin shifted in his seat, taking a sip of his tea so he didn´t have to talk. An unpleasant silence filled his chambers as Bilbo silently read the papers.

“It has already been fifteen years.” The hobbit said quietly, putting the papers down on his lap. “And it still feels like it was yesterday.”

“Bilbo, I—“

“No,” the hobbit interrupted him, returning the papers on the table. “Just don´t. I still don´t know how to feel about it.”

Another silent while followed, but this time it was Thorin who broke it.

“I wanted to - I want you to come. I mean, if you feel like it, you are welcome to join me during the ceremony. I—“

Bilbo´s mirthless laugh made him shut up. “You are really bad at these things.” He said as he stood up, finishing his cup in one go. Thorin stared at him in confusion.

“I didn´t come here dwell on the past. Not today.” A silent rapping on the door interrupted him and he smiled. “I came here to show you the future.”

And when the door opened, Thorin almost fell off his chair.

“Hello uncle!” Fíli rasped as he walked in, supported by his grinning brother. Thorin shot up from the chair, standing behind his table wide eyed and open mouthed.

“Fíli!” He whispered, looking from his nephew to Bilbo in awe. He even rubbed his eyes to make sure he was not dreaming, but Bilbo didn´t miss the glistering tears he quickly whipped away.

The hobbit watched as the king embraced his nephew like a desperate father hugs his child.

“My boys!” Thorin called with a trembling voice.

“Uncle, you are crushing us!” Kíli choked out, patting Thorin´s back as Fíli laughed loudly.

Bilbo left in silence, leaving the dwarves to enjoy their reunion, catching the king´s silent ´thank you´. The longer he walked, the faster his pace became, and in the end, Bilbo found himself running towards Smaug´s chamber.

The dragon let out a high pitched roar when his father´s guards entered the room, instantly making them turn around and leave.

“He made you sad again.” Smaug whispered, coiling around the hobbit. Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut as he fell to his knees and pressed himself tight against the dragon´s hot scales. “What are you so afraid of?”

“I just realized something.” Bilbo said, hugging his knees. “I will live as long as you are alive. One day I will see all of them perish. Everyone I know will die before me and I will stay in this world and watch them wither away. I don´t want to be alone.”

The dragon whined, laying his head next to Bilbo so his father could pet him. “You´ll never be alone. I´ll always be by your side. Until the very end. And when the time comes, we will leave this world together.”

“My dear child.” Bilbo said, snuggling closer to the drake. “You were the best thing that could happen to me.” 

* * *

 

Thorin was so happy to finally see his nephews´ smiles that he didn´t even notice Bilbo missing. He spent the whole evening with the boys and his sister and only when Fíli mentioned the hobbit´s name, Thorin realized he has completely forgotten about him.

When Kíli and Fíli retired to their room and Thorin made sure the door was secured by at least by dozen of guards he went to look for Bilbo.

He didn´t even have to search that long, since the only possible place he could have gone to was either his own room or Smaug´s. When he finally arrived to the door leading to the dragon´s chamber, the old captain blocked his way.

“I am very sorry, your majesty, but the dragon forbid anyone to enter.”

“Is Bilbo there?” Thorin asked, resisting the urge to just barge in.

“Yes, your majesty.”

It was clear from the old dwarf´s tone that something was not alright. Thorin did not question him, however. He left without any further comment.

* * *

“Why the long face?” Dwalin started once he saw his friend walking down the hall, looking all gloomy and upset.

“It´s nothing.” Thorin mumbled in reply.

The head of the guards squinted, pursing his lips. “It´s the burglar, isn´t it. You´ve upset him again.”

“How do you—What do you mean ´again´?!” Thorin growled, punching the other dwarf´s arm none-too-gently. “What happened to your face?”

Dwalin smirked and shrugged, his hand carefully touching the tiny scratches. “You´re gonna see soon.” 

Thorin let that comment go and marched to his room without making any attempt to develop the conversation.

“Oh, no...” The king sighed as he opened the door. “Has the dragon sent you three to bully me again?!” He cried when he saw the three fluffed owls sitting in the middle of his bed, cooing at him in a rather aggressive way.

“Good luck dealing with predicament!” Dwalin called, pushing the king inside and closing the door behind him.

“YOU TRAITOR!!” A muffled yell came from inside, “YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO SIDE WITH ME NOT WITH THEM!”

Dwalin leaned against the heavy door and covered his ears. Judging by angry hoots and Thorin´s shrill cries and curses, the hobbit must be really upset. And he was definitely not going to step in, he thought as he massaged his injured face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revenge is sweet.. And there is a certain even approaching... which means.... MORE BAGGINSHIELD!   
> Comments would be very lovely!


	26. When They Leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I surely didn´t plan to end this one like this... But meh, at least I finally know what end this story´s going to have... Sorry for that.  
> Also, fuck finals and fuck everything!  
> There might be delays in future chapters since it´s finals time; I am busy, my betas are busy, so yeah, be prepared.
> 
> (I have no idea how I managed to write so much for the second story -_-)
> 
> *Thank you Szabi, my darling, for all your hard work! Sorry for dumping so much work on you!!*  
> *Thanks Zayroen for inspiration.*

„Would you stop daydreaming already??“ Dwalin barked as he almost cut Thorin´s arm off for the fourth time that morning. “For Mahal´s sake! This is not training! All I do is hold back because you refuse to concentrate! Pull yourself together!”

Thorin heaved a sigh, looking at his cousin properly for the first time. “Sorry, what?”

Dwalin groaned dropping his sword on the ground and throwing his hands into the air. “Have you eaten some weird mushrooms or plants or something? You are utterly useless. What´s going on?”

“It´s nothing.” The king murmured, sheathing his own sword and turning around to leave. “There are just too many things on my mind. Thranduil and his company of tree-loving minions are due to arrive this month.” He said with disdain and walked away.

* * *

 

Dwalin scented something was amiss. It was definitely not the elves that were on Thorin´s mind for the whole day. No way he´s going to believe that!

He quickly took his axes and hammer, and ran after his king. The rest of the day was a torture. Thorin had to spend almost five hours at the court, which basically meant five hours of standing by his side for Dwalin. Listening to the constant bickering didn´t really improve his mood either.

Despite all this, the warrior made sure to closely watch his cousin all the time. Thorin was so absent-minded and inattentive that Dwalin had to nudge him several times to make him pay attention.

As the day progressed, his friend became even more ridiculous. During the first half an hour of overlooking the work at the new mine, Thorin almost managed to walk into a wall, missed two turns and slipped on the stairs. The miners started to whisper to each other by the fifth time their king tripped on a stray stone.

Dwalin hurriedly muttered some excuses and apologies, took Thorin by his elbow and escorted him back outside before he managed to kill himself.

“Alright, that´s enough.” The warrior growled, crossing his hands over his broad chest. “Did someone poison you again? Are you sick?” He asked, holding up two fingers in front of Thorin´s face. “How many fingers do you see?”

The dwarf king slapped his hand away and groaned. “Stop it.”

“No, seriously. Have little feathery buggers eaten your brain? What is wrong with you? You´ve been acting strange the whole day!”

“I told you already. It´s nothi—“

“It obviously is something.” Dwalin interrupted him, shaking his head.

Thorin sighed and dragged a hand down his face. Glancing suspiciously around, he leant forward to whisper to his friend.

“It´s Bilbo,” he said unhappily.

Dwalin rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to control a grin that threatened to take over his face. Oh he was sick, alright. “Mahal help me! You´re totally smitten with the hobbit!”

“No, I´m not, you fool!” Thorin argued, giving Dwalin an unamused look.

“Then what is it?”

“I feel like I should repay him for all the help. I just cannot come up with a proper gift.”

Dwalin stared at him as if he grew a second head. “That´s all?”

“What do you mean ´that´s all´?!”

“Just… I don´t know, invite him to dine with you, give him flowers! Hobbits surely like that kind of stuff.”

The king looked thoughtful and Dwalin used the while to tease him. “So, when should I await the happy announcement?” He grinned.

Thorin spun around, cursing under his breath.

“Just don´t give him jewelry!” The guard yelled when his king slammed the door to his chambers close.

* * *

 

Dwalin stood by the door of the treasury, staring at his king as he ran to and fro between the heaps of gold and jewels, raking though them and effectively ruining the neat stacks. The keeper of the treasury fretted behind him, crying over all the mess Thorin was making.

“Stop following me and search for it!” The king barked, making the other dwarf flinch and run off.

“Is he gold-mad again?” Dwalin heard from behind. Dís silently walked to him, watching the scene in the golden hall with uneasiness. 

Dwalin shrugged mutely, shaking his head. They both stared at the dwarf king, trying to determine whether he´s gold-sick or just losing his mind.

They stood by the door in complete silence until the sound of horns echoed through the mountain. While they exchanged a questioning look they didn´t notice Thorin running towards them. When he spoke up they both startled.

“What´s the meaning of this?” He growled, looking from his sister to his bodyguard expecting an explanation. When only received two befuddled stares and a shrug, he took off, his heavy coat flapping behind him in a very aggressive way.

* * *

 

“Why are they here already?” Thorin cursed under his breath, quickly changing into more regal clothes. “He was supposed to arrive at the end of the month, not now!”

Dwalin silently endured the king’s complains, curses and threats and helped him to dress up.

“If this is some kind of trick—“

“My king!” A servant called from outside, hurriedly knocking on the door.

“Yes, I am coming!” After another chain of silent curses, Thorin finally managed to buckle up his belt and hang his sword on his hip. He marched out of his chamber with Dwalin in tow, mentally preparing himself for a very forced polite conversation with the Elvenking.

He was just about to enter the throne room when he stopped dead in his tracks, glaring at his left.

“You´ve got to be joking.”  Irritation and anger flooded his body when he spotted the person Bilbo was talking to.

“And here is the king himself!” Thranduil exclaimed, tilting his head in the dwarf king´s direction.

Thorin nodded in return, clenching his teeth to keep himself from insulting the elf. “Welcome in my mountain. We didn´t expect you to arrive so early.” He managed to say politely. Bilbo shifted next to him, masking his silent laugh with a cough.

“I have heard some interesting rumours concerning The Lonely Mountain.”

“Indeed?” Thorin arched an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore how Bilbo´s posture suddenly changed.

“Yes. There are some that say there is a dragon residing here…” The elven king muttered, pointedly looking at the hobbit who straightened his back and raised his chin loftily.

“Oh really?” Bilbo asked, faking surprise.

The elven king squinted momentarily, clasping his hands behind his back. “Some say the dragon Smaug has come back to life to get the gold of the mountain back, others speak of a Dragon Lord who came from the west to conquer the east.”

“Are you afraid of rumours?” Bilbo asked, gracing the tall elf with a mischievous smile.

“I am afraid of dragons and the waste they bring with them.”

“Your concern about the…wellbeing....of Erebor is touching.” Bilbo remarked, a smile blossoming on his lips. “You shouldn´t listen to such words, milord, they are often far from the truth.” The hobbit said, bowing slightly both to Thranduil and Thorin. “My kings, if you excuse me.”

Thorin dipped his head, trying very hard to control the grin on his face.

* * *

Thorin was actually surprised that they managed to hold a civilized conversation, although Thranduil seemed kind of edgy and less insulting than usual.

He left Dwalin in the charge of leading the elves to their respective rooms as a punishment for the earlier teasing and left to find Bilbo.

He sent a servant to fetch the things he intended to gift the hobbit with and when the dwarf returned with the package, he knocked on Bilbo´s door, waiting for an invite.

When a muffled ´enter´ echoed from inside, Thorin pushed the door open and walked in. The tailor fretting around Bilbo quickly stepped back, collected his tools, and after two low bows to both him and the hobbit he hurried away.

Thorin cocked an eyebrow in question.

“New garments.” Bilbo commented, adjusting the collar of his coat. He returned Thorin´s questioning look with his own when he spotted the servant standing by the door, holding a decorated wooden box.

“I have to admit,” the king said casually, taking a step closer, “you dealt with Thranduil very elegantly. You floored him so effectively that he didn´t utter a single complaint about the chamber´s I provided him with.”

Bilbo ducked his head to hide the sudden blush on his cheeks.

“I also have to thank you for all what you´ve done for me and my mountain.” Thorin said seriously, not taking his eyes off the hobbit. “You cured my nephew and found out the source of the sickness that ailed my people.”

“Thorin, you don´t need to—“ Bilbo started, but stopped himself when the dwarf raised his hand to silence him. He took the box the servant was holding, dismissing him with a short Khuzdul command, and turned back to Bilbo.

“I would be happy if you accepted this as a token of my gratitude.” Thorin said, holding the box in offer. The hobbit looked uncertain at first, worried even but in the end, he huffed in resignation and put a hesitant hand on the lid, looking Thorin in the eye.

“If it is jewellery, I am going to punch your kingly face.” He commented half-heartedly.

Thorin mentally thanked Mahal for listening to Dwalin´s advice, however, the warrior did not need to know that.

Bilbo carefully lifted the lid and Thorin felt very satisfied when he heard the hobbit´s silent gasp.

“This is—“ he stuttered, his eyes wide open as he stared at the content.

“It´s mithril.” Thorin commented when Bilbo took the glittering shirt out and held it before him to look at it properly. “It is as light as a feather, but harder than dragon scales. No weapon can pierce it. It provides impenetrable protection and it would make me feel more at ease if you wore it.”

Bilbo chuckled to hide the guilt that suddenly swelled inside of him. He turned around to hide his face, pretending to inspect the mithril mail some more. He wanted to hide the grimace of pain because the irony of the truth was suddenly too much.

He cannot die of wounds. He cannot die of poison and he cannot die of old age. He would be the one worrying for the safety of others.

Yet he kept quiet. He would not tell them, not now at least. He concealed the turmoil that burned in him and when he turned back to look at Thorin again, his face was an image of pure joy.

Or at least, he hoped so.

“Thank you, Thorin, I will cherish this gift.”

The king seemed satisfied, but his shoulders were still tense. Bilbo looked back at the box in his hand, shaking his head when he noticed the other item placed there – a shining silvery bracelet with small clear jewels that seemed to radiate their own light.

Bilbo carefully took the bracelet, sneaking a glance at Thorin whose eyes were fixed on his face.

“It´s jewellery.” He said, biting his lip, trying not to laugh at the dwarf´s little flinch. He brought the wrist band closer and carefully traced the little flowery shapes of the jewels.

“Thorin,” the hobbit spoke up, his face completely blank.

“What´s wrong? Is it the bracelet? I know you said not jewellery but--”

“As much as I am flattered by your offer, I think it´s a little too soon for a proposal.”

The look of utter panic and dismay that took over Thorin´s face was something Bilbo would never forget.

“I didn´t mean to--! I didn´t know! I-I… I´m not—“ The king stuttered, almost dropping the beautiful wooden case. Bilbo´s laugh, however, made him stop. “Bilbo…”

“The look on your face!” The hobbit sniggered. “Oh, Thorin! So gullible!”

The dwarf put the box down uncertainly, suddenly feeling that something was very wrong.

“If you could only see yourself! I´m joking!” Bilbo laughed, pressing the bracelet to his chest.

“Then why are you crying?”

Bilbo laugh changed into sobs and his smile twisted into a pained grimace. “I´m not crying.”

_-It just isn´t fair.-_

He tried to hide his pitiful face in his hands, ignoring Thorin´s worried face, ignoring the heavy hand on his shoulder.

_-You still have it. The bracelet I gave you.-_

He didn´t care about the bad things that happened between them. It seemed so petty now that he realized just how fleeting and fragile one´s life can be.

_-Of course I do.-_

_-You never told me what they meant.-_

Bilbo gave into the only consolation he would get at that moment and buried his head into the furs of Thorin´s coat. 

_-They represent the last thing I will say to you.-_

 “I´m sorry, Bilbo. I didn´t mean to upset you.”

“It is not you.” The hobbit said weakly, taking a deep breath. “It´s just me being silly.”

_-And what is that?-_

It really was him being silly. Bilbo squeezed the bracelet even harder, knowing that he accepted a gift that represents the words he would say to all of his friends….

_-Farewell.-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what say you? Good? Bad? You might already scent some ending parts (I couldn´t help myself). 
> 
> Hobbit flower language! Yeah! Let´s just pretend the flowers DO actually have the meaning of Farewell (because I didn´t find ONE flower that would resemble the one on the bracelet - NEVER MIND! WE IMPROVISE!!)  
> The bracelet: http://media.tiffany.com/is/image/Tiffany/27568408_926282_ED?$EcomItemL$&defaultImage=NoImageAvailable&&
> 
> Writing this actually made me sad... If you just emphatize a little bit with Bilbo... Damn... so much angst. And really. If you just realized that you are going to bury your friends soon (yeah, soon, because dragons live long as fuck and as Thranduil said "100 years are a mere blink" in the life of immortals, you would see everyone in a different light. 
> 
> But good thing is that next chapter is the start of the Mourning... which means one other thing I promised :P *lewd laugh*


	27. Rumour Has It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah.... I AM still alive.   
> Sorry for making you wait guys. My finals are already over but all the inspiration decided to leave me the moment my holiday officially started.   
> Also, the lack of Hobbit related stuf on the internet is very disappointing. 
> 
> But well, a new chapter is up, I hope you´ll enjoy it. 
> 
> *Thank you Szabi, for urging me to finish it and bitching at me for not being focused enough!*

Rumours really do spread like wildfire. There is no denying that. Thorin knew that keeping a dragon in his mountain would lead to a chain of very unpleasant events, and that, of course, also meant very unpleasant meetings and conversations. However, he decided to overlook these events and unpleasant conversations since the hidden presence of the previously mentioned dragon made the elves edgier than ever.

Thorin was delighted to see them fidget and look around, clearly looking for the source of their discomfort. It was more than amusing to watch their carefully hidden fear and unease brim over their solid masks of lofty disinterest.

He was also very surprised – Smaug hasn´t showed himself since the elves stepped into the mountain. How he did that, Thorin didn´t know. It could be that he used some kind of concealing magic, but then again, he didn´t really care as long as the elves stayed the way they are now: edgy and unsure.

The only thing he minded was Thranduil and his constant and quite surprising need to talk to him almost every day. The Elvenking lurked about, often trying to start a conversation that always lead to the badly concealed where-is-the-dragon question.

Bard was a little bolder than the elf. It was a week before the arrival of Bard´s company to the mountain when Thorin received his letter consisting of a polite greeting, date of arrival and a direct question about what the rumours of harbouring a dragon in Erebor were supposed to mean. No beating around the bush. Thorin liked that.

But despite his initial amusement he decided to reply with a simple dismissal. He was sure Bilbo didn´t care about rumours – the way he handled Thranduil´s curiosity was convincing enough – but he still wasn´t comfortable with talking to anyone about that topic.

Speaking of Bilbo, he hasn´t seen the hobbit for quite some time. Ever since the gifting incident, which Thorin somehow managed to mess up to the point where he made Bilbo cry. This resulted in severe punishment in the form of jabs and scratches from Tylly, Bubo and Aula – the tree owlets who kept stalking him and effectively keeping his nights sleepless.

Thorin was a little bit upset that Bilbo kind of ditched him – he was, after all, a big help when it came to the council meetings – but he kept hearing from him from Kíli, who finally looked like his old self and not a depressed ball of sadness. That also made Thorin´s life infinitely better.

Going through another document about a new supply of rye, Thorin wondered if the pointy-eared weed-eaters would use their magic or whatever to make the crops grow faster. That would really make the situation a lot better. Another document was a report of the decrease of sick dwarves which made Thorin´s mood a little bit better and his back a little bit straighter.

Another predicament he had to deal with was the Mourning anniversary. Well, not really the anniversary itself but the fact that there was a dragon nestled in his mountain and he was pretty sure men and elves alike would not just brush the drake off like it was a normal occurrence. Even if Smaug was bound by Bilbo´s will.

And as if he has heard his thoughts, the door opened and the hobbit calmly walked in, sitting himself on the chair opposite of him.

Thorin mentally smiled when he saw Bilbo place his tea-pot on the table, gathering the documents scattered around and throwing them on the floor without as much as batting an eye. The dwarf sighed and gave up on scolding him. After all, the hobbit always brushed it off only with a raised eyebrow and a shrug.

Bilbo silently poured the tea, never making an eye contact and Thorin pretended to read whatever was written on the paper he was holding, his eyes straying to the hobbit every two seconds. He noticed the silvery bracelet around his wrist and bit his lip to hide his satisfied smile.

The thee feathery monsters swooped down on the table around Bilbo once he took out some crumbs and held them in his palm so they could feed.

They still didn´t speak, even after good fifteen minutes of sipping tea.

Thorin was, however, the first to break that silence. He squirmed in his seat, gulping down his persisting guilt of making Bilbo cry with the last bit of tea he has left and cleared his throat.

“We need to talk…”

Bilbo´s heavy sigh made Thorin´s stomach tumble. The hobbit put down his unfinished cup of tea and leaned back in his seat.

“It´s about Smaug, isn´t it?” He asked, pointedly not looking at the dwarf.

“Well, yeah. I think you´re aware that if Smaug was to reveal himself during the Mourning he would not receive very positive reactions.”

“Are you afraid?” Bilbo asked slyly, finally looking the dwarf in the eye.

“Wh—“ Thorin stuttered, visibly taken aback by the hobbit´s unexpected behaviour. “Of course I´m afraid!” He growled, but forced himself to swallow the anger when he the owls ruffled their feathers in offence. “Bilbo, of course I´m afraid. I know he probably won´t mean any harm but there is no telling how the others are going to react.” He said, not even daring to imagine the chaos and panic of that particular scenario.

Bilbo tilted his head and smiled. “It´s incredible how little faith you have in him.” He murmured, making Thorin sigh again and pinch the bridge of his nose.

It was his small gestures Bilbo learnt to read that made their conversations fun. He was frustrated. Tired and stressed. He was also very uncomfortable – judging by how often his eyes strayed towards the fluffed owls. It was funny how a king who fought his way from east to west and back was afraid of these three adorable little creatures. Although Bilbo suspected that Smaug´s influence over them was partially at fault.

“I´ll see what I can do about Smaug.” Bilbo said finally, smirking at how Thorin´s shoulders heaved with yet another sigh. “No promises though.”

* * *

 

 

A week has gone by quicker than Thorin would have liked.

Erebor was teeming with life – dwarves, elves and men were milling about in the corridors and in the grass field under the great wall like ants. The sound of laughter and echoes of songs filled the air and Thorin contently watched the dances and games from the top of the wall. Not even the fact that Thranduil was there to _grace_ him with his company along with Bard (whose presence made the whole things so much better) didn´t make his mood any sour.

There was a speech he had to make and he intended to do it flawlessly. He repeated the words in his head for  what felt like millionth time, ignoring Bard´s and Thranduil´s conversation when a hand on his shoulder interrupted him.

“Hello, uncle,” Kíli chirped, nodding his head to the two other kings as well.

“Are you mentally reciting your speech again?” Fíli asked as he hobbled to his side and leaned against the stony railing.

Thorin scoffed but didn´t say anything, which made the brothers grin at each other behind his back. When they judged they won´t get a proper conversation out of him anytime soon, Kíli and Fíli turned to Bard to tease the other man instead.

Thorin gave up on reciting the speech again and scanned the field under the wall as he listened to the brothers´ rattling. His eyes stopped on a golden mop of curls. Bilbo was standing in the middle of the field by the burial-mound surrounded by dwarves and men. Thorin noted he was probably talking about something hobbit related – going by how excited his hand gestures and nods seemed.

He remembered their last conversation and it looked like he was able to talk Smaug into staying in the mountain, what was probably the reason behind his great mood.

Little did he know, this great mood of his would be rather short-lived.

* * *

 

The first indicator of ´something´s amiss´ was the appearance of the three feathery monsters during his speech. Thorin managed to swallow the fear down for the sake of the audience and continued speaking as if nothing happened. He even ignored Thranduil´s sudden interest in the three spawns of evil and pretended not to notice how they cooed as the Elvenking petted their heads.

The second indicator was the collective gasp and several shrieks during the period of silence that served as a tribute to all who have fallen in the battle. Thorin mentally screamed and searched for Bilbo – who only pursed his lips and glanced away in attempt of avoiding the dwarf´s wrathful look, pointing somewhere above him at the mountain.

Thorin didn´t need to look up to know that was there.

Smaug was latched onto the side of the mountain, craning his neck to look at the mob of mingled people of Middle-Earth.

He let out a high pitched shriek and bounced off the mountain, flying up in the air.

And suddenly, there were the petals that snowed down on the stunned audience everytime Smaug flew by.

The dragon floated in the air above the mound, letting out three roars and then slowly lowered himself on the grassy field.

Thorin felt how tense both Bard and Thranduil became but he couldn´t make himself care. His eyes were trained on the shimmering drake below, preparing himself for the chaos and panic that would undoubtedly erupt any second.

Still, there was silence. Smaug stood by the mound, slowly raising his head and displaying the golden scales on his neck and chest – in a sign of submission. Nobody moved.

Nobody, except Bilbo. The crimson-clad hobbit confidently marched towards his dragon with a huge flower bouquet in his hands, stopping in front of the burial mound to place the flowers by the root.

The next thing Thorin knew were the happy shrieks of dwarflings who managed to wrestle themselves out of their parent´s grasps, running towards the 'AzugulZabadith and his dragon only to bedeck both of them with flower crowns and colourful streamers, putting their own little bouquets next to Bilbo´s.

Soon enough, the numerous dwarflings were dancing around the dragon, singing songs and pleading to be put on his back and once the rest of the people snapped back out of their trance, they too, contributed to the flowery heap with their own gifts and proceeded to gawk at the scaly creature playing with children.

Thorin didn´t even notice his mouth was wide opened. He felt Bard shift next to him, putting his hand down from the bow on his back.

Thranduil was like a statue, still staring at the display on the field.

Bard shifted again and turned at the dwarf king.

“He... isn´t as big as I thought he would be.” The bowman uttered, and Thorin could swear he heard disappointment in his tone.

Somewhere behind them, Kíli and Fíli burst out laughing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just.... Comments would be lovely... I was not kidding when I said it helps me with writing. 
> 
> Chapter with capital D (wink wink if you know what I mean) is coming next time.


	28. What It Is and What It Isn´t

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeey, I´m alive!   
> Forgive me please! 
> 
>  
> 
> ART FOR THE CHAPTER  
>  http://shaerahaek.tumblr.com/post/93582723061/nfsw-alert-for-chapter-28-of-my-fic-by-your
> 
> I think I wanted to say more... but I forgot what.... 
> 
>  
> 
> *My thanks goes to Szabi, who mentally braced himself and read the whole thing - I hope you´re not scarred for life*  
> **Thank´s for Zayroen´s approval of the art**

The sounds of fiddles and drums echoed throughout the mountain, filling the now empty halls with sounds of merriment and peace – the two things Bilbo was not enjoying at the moment. No, what Bilbo was _enduring_ at the moment was his own, currently very stuffy, room and one very displeased dwarf.

Said dwarf was pacing there and back like a caged beast ready to lash out at everyone who gets too close.

Bilbo sat on the bed with eyes fixed on Thorin, listening to his very unnecessary monologue and trying not to wince everytime the dwarven king failed to keep his temper under control.  He was trying very hard not to shout or hit things – Bilbo could see that, but Thorin´s temper was unpredictable (even though Bilbo learned to read his limited expressions and could now pretty well tell if someone was going to get hurt or no).

He discreetly craned his neck to see through the balcony from his seat on the bed as Thorin once again paced past him. Failing to stop himself from sighing when he saw the stars glittering on the inky sky, Bilbo made up his mind and finally opened his mouth.

“Thorin, I-“

His speech was immediately cut short as the king sharply turned around, holding his finger up to silence him. Bilbo almost didn´t refrain from rolling his eyes as the dwarf´s clothes and hair swung around him, making him look much more dramatic than needed.

“I personally _begged_ you to keep _him_ out of sight, Bilbo.” Thorin started, his finger still frozen in the air as a sign for the hobbit to be silent until he´s done talking.

You didn´t really beg, Bilbo thought sarcastically as he bit his tongue to keep himself from saying it out loud.

More like asked, really…

“It is the only thing I asked you to do since you came,” he continued and Bilbo bit his tongue even harder to silence yet another sassy comment he was ready to spill out, “and you, do you even know what danger you put all of us in?”

At that point Bilbo just stopped listening, because he knew very well what followed – another long and very exaggerated monologue of possibilities, worst case scenarios and ´what-if´s. He really didn´t need to hear that.

Thorin started pacing again, clearly frustrated going by how tense his shoulders were and how often he squeezed the bridge of his nose.

Bilbo rather focused on the celebration going on outside. Some lively drinking song was coming to an end. A bout of loud laughter erupted a while later, drowning out the faint whistling of Bofur´s flute and soon enough he heard the dwarf´s voice as he started to sing his own song about good ale.

He silently wished to be down there than up in this suffocating room with his only company being a certain king with serious anger management issues.

From the corner of his eye, Bilbo could see Thorin scanning the room, clearly looking for alcohol of some kind – something that, to Bilbo´s surprise, helped him to smother the flames of his wrath. He caught him drinking few times after some very eventful council meetings and he was indeed taken aback when Thorin replied with calm and patience. All Bilbo thought back then was what a shame it was that he didn´t bring the liquor to every meeting he held. Things would surely have gone better with than without it.

“In the table, second drawer on the left.” Bilbo silently commented, seeing how progressively more stressed Thorin was becoming with every passing minute.

The king didn´t even bother to pour the liquor into a cup – he swung the bottle upwards, gulping down few hefty mouthfuls.

It worked like magic, Bilbo noted. For immediately after that, Thorin just (finally) collapsed into the chair, slamming the bottle down on the table and massaging his forehead.

Bilbo used this moment to walk over to him, gently taking the bottle from his hand.

“You know, you really have little faith in him.” He said calmly, eyeing the bottle and deciding that since he probably won´t return to the celebration anyway, he might as well let some of his own steam out. Thinking that, he did the same Thorin did a few seconds ago, with the only difference being that he drank much less than the dwarf.

Thorin sighed as Bilbo leaned against the table. “Do you think he would come out if he sensed even a tiny bit of danger? I cannot read his thoughts but I can very much feel what he feels and I know that however much he dislikes you and this mountain, he would not have come out if there was a risk of initiating a dispute.”

“It was risky!” Thorin said firmly, but with even voice. “You can´t understand…”

“Oh, can´t I?” Bilbo interrupted him, his own temper spiking at the comment. “Can´t I really? Just because I am not a king? Because I am not a dwarf?” He said, very aware of the fact that his own voice was gaining quite a bit of volume. “Thorin, we knew what we were doing! Smaug wants to meet your people, he wants to meet other people too! Do you think he can´t get lonely?!”

At that point he knew he maybe raised his voice too much but Thorin was just a big hairy stubborn mule and he was getting tired of his dramatic monologues.

“Don´t twist my words! I´m only saying it was dangerous.” Thorin half-growled, locking his eyes with Bilbo.

“And I am saying you are being unreasonable! Not everything ends up in rebellions and death! Smaug knew what he was doing!”

“Did he really? What if the elves—“

“Are we really discussing this again? Because if your only argument is ´the elves´” Bilbo emphasized the words by imitating the dwarf, “I think the discussion is over!”

Thorin shot up from his seat, slamming his hand on the table.

“Why? Because I am trying to keep the kingdom from falling apart? Because I am worried for everyone´s safety? Wasn´t it already bad enough with the sickness and rebellions? What if someone decided to attack you… or your dragon? What if—“

“What if, what if what if! Always the what ifs! Nothing happened! Smaug had it under control!”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Thorin asked exasperatedly, throwing his hands into the air.

“Are _you_ listening to _yourself_?” Bilbo shot back, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline.

They were now shouting at each other, not minding the guards stationed outside. It was always the same with Thorin. No matter how much time has passed, no matter how many mistakes he did and not minding the consequences, he was always distrustful of the elves.

Their dispute was all pointing fingers and throwing old mistakes at each other – as it was in all their argument.

Bilbo´s patience with Thorin hit his limit and after a very long time, he finally told him what lay on his mind since they met.

“You are always so distrustful!” Bilbo shouted, stabbing the dwarf´s chest with his finger. “It´s always fight, fight and fight with you! You cannot discuss anything in peace and you are incapable of trusting anyone!” The hobbit kept stabbing Thorin´s chest as he talked, effectively backing the dwarf against the wall. “Something is wrong? Blame the elves! Someone wants to help you? He is surely a traitor! How are you still alive with this attitude, I wonder? You are a big stubborn idiot who´s busy glaring daggers at everyone who tries to get close to you and that´s that is all because you can´t distinguish a friend from a foe because your long and _majestic_ mane gets into those ridiculously blue eyes of yours! You always push me away because you´re so damn paranoid! You always hit first and then ask later and I think that I´m not the only one who thinks that is not a way a king should be acting, so kindly, grow up and act like a proper adult!”

Bilbo finished, his throat sore from all that shouting, and face flushed from the lack of air.

He mentally braced himself for a bout of verbal lashing in return but when he was spun around, pressed against the wall and, very unexpectedly and passionately, kissed; he couldn´t help but to think that it could have ended in million other scenarios, of which none would have make him feel the shivers running up his spine like this one.

They broke apart after a good while, both gasping for air.

“I—“ Thorin started, and Bilbo could swear he heard something that dangerously resembled hesitation.

“Oh, shut up!”

And they were kissing again, a little bit more violently this time, as if it was a fight and both of them wanted to come out of it victorious. Bilbo silently wondered when was the last time someone held him like this – with one very warm, almost scorching hand firmly and yet carefully holding the back of his neck, sending chills down his spine; the other one circling his waist for a while and then moving downwards to grope his arse and eventually his thigh.

They both knew where it was going and how it´s going to end. But despite that, they threw their worries out of the proverbial window and soon enough, they tumbled into the bed, tearing clothes off each other and carelessly tossing them away.

A little voice in the back in his head warned him that Smaug was not going to be happy if he finds out, which he eventually will, but Bilbo could not make himself care about that now. The sloppy concealment of his emotions will not deceive the dragon later, but Smaug was now busy paying attention to all the children outside, so they´ll have enough time for this evening.

No hesitation, no second thoughts, no regrets.

There was just lust and greed and they both didn´t think about the consequences just for tonight.  

As Bilbo fell down backwards into the pillows and Thorin crawled between his legs, hands caressing whatever they could reach, the hobbit found himself hesitating for the first time.

Maybe it wasn´t a good idea to jump into this unprepared, he thought.

Thorin noticed his subtle discomfort. He leaned over to bite his neck as if to calm him down and partially distract him from the hand that reached towards the night table on his left.

When Bilbo saw through the move and gingerly pushed the dwarf away to look to the left, he couldn’t help but sigh.

“Oh well…” He managed to whisper, when he saw the little bottle of fragrant oil Dori gifted him with some time ago.

Thorin´s only answer was a guttural laugh and a nip on his thigh.

He ignored the almost painful throbbing of his shoulder – courtesy of Smaug.

The first time was quick and out of control, both of them reaching the peak in few seconds. The second time was slow, somehow sloppy but still perfect. Thorin didn´t let Bilbo´s back leave the surface of the bed, drinking the sight with unnatural thirst. Bilbo returned the favour by raking his skull with his fingers and gently tugging on his ebony locks.

By the third time Thorin was starting to doubt his capabilities of keeping up and when he collapsed on the bed, careful enough not to hurt the needy creature under him, but cleverly enough to trap him on the spot; he wondered if all hobbits are like this one.

Bilbo took his time to express his dissatisfaction of being trapped and made sure Thorin had some bite marks of his own. Sure enough, his little vengeance grew into merciless teasing and Thorin found himself good to go another time after which he ended up on his back with a grinning hobbit straddling his muscular belly. With an air of horror Thorin realized that the night was not over yet. Not by a long shot.

* * *

The morning came too fast, Thorin thought.

He wanted to think about everything, the unpleasant feeling in his gut making him restless and nervous.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Bilbo´s unreadable face. Thorin wasn’t sure whether to talk or not, but judging by the look in his partner´s eyes it was better to keep one´s mouth shut.

They didn´t regret it. None of it.

Thorin was about to voice his thoughts but Bilbo pressed the tips of his fingers against his lips, faintly smiling.

“Don´t spoil it.” He said calmly. “We know what it is and what it isn’t.”

And Thorin understood, trying to overcome his tiredness as he was leaving Bilbo´s quarters, only to collapsed onto his own bed, catching a few more hours of sleep before the day officially starts.

* * *

They knew what it was and what it wasn’t.

It was their own greed and frustration. The attraction they felt towards each other, maybe from the beginning, maybe later, they did not know. They did not _want_ _to_ know.

It wasn´t love.

Because they’ve dealt too many wounds to be able to love each other…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please? Pretty please?
> 
> Oh, and... there is no way I´m abandonig this. I just lack the muse for holiday.


	29. Bringer of Bad News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuh, SO, I am back in business! And I finally finished planning the ending - thanks to my ever loyal Szabi, of course!   
> Hmm.... I (yet again) forgot what I wanted to say to this chapter....   
> Oh yeah... Can you guess why Dwalin is so pissed off? *sniggers* 
> 
>  
> 
> *Wonderful art you need to check out: http://miruna-lavinia.deviantart.com/art/By-your-hand-2-473079083 *  
> **My little contribution to this chapter: http://shaerahaek.tumblr.com/post/94183938511/a-messy-spoiler-for-chapter-29-of-by-your **  
> ***Thank you Szabi! I would be lost without you!***

There were only few people in Middle-Earth that could say they knew Thorin Oakenshield.

Dwalin thought he was one of those lucky few.

He was proved wrong.

* * *

 

It all started with the dragon crawling out of the mountain and snowing them all in flower petals. He literally felt Thorin´s temper flare at the sight. His eyes then sought out Bilbo in the crowd and kept following him until he got the first chance to get down from the gate wall and drag Bilbo back inside. He was not exactly subtle about it either. Dwalin, however, knew he was as subtle as he could be at that particular moment.

Thorin was seething.

Dwalin knew it, the hobbit knew it and he was sure pretty much everyone Thorin passed on his way to Bilbo knew it because the glare on his face was enough to make several dwarflings who spotted him cry.

But all that was alright. After all, that was a fairly common reaction as far as Thorin was concerned.

The very vocal argument was, too, alright.

However, things got very bad, very quickly.

He, the old Captain (Dwalin was convinced that it _was_ his actual name) and the Captain´s young, very talented, protégé Ilar were standing outside the door - not too close but close enough to intervene should the argument grow into something less verbal and more violent (which was, in their case, quite possible)

It was more than awkward to listen to their bickering. They were rather surprised when they heard Bilbo raise his voice and then a while after that fully shout at Thorin.

All three of them shared a look during the unsettling period of silence that followed, thinking the same thing – the argument was either over and or was about to get much worse.

Dwalin´s hand was already on the door knob, his mind set on breaking the argument before anyone could get to harm and he would have walked in if it wasn’t for the not really quiet, breathy, and very unexpected, _moan_ that echoed from inside.

The three guards froze momentarily before they all turned a very imposing shade of red.

The second highly immodest moan was enough to make them back off and keep watch on the farthest possible place – which was the opposite end of the corridor.

“Well, this is awkward…” Ilar trailed off nervously, looking everywhere but at the other two warriors who sighed in union.

* * *

 

No. Dwalin was definitely _not_ happy about the current development of events involving the King Under the Mountain and their ex-burglar.

He marched into Thorin´s room with clenched hands and grinding teeth, prepared to give his king a piece of his mind.

Dwalin slammed the door open and stepped in the chamber and shut it back closed, not caring what state his _friend_  was in – which was face down, half-naked and most likely passed out.

“Wake up!” Dwalin bellowed, crossing his hands on his chest.

A faint muffled groan was a clear sign that Thorin was not going to cooperate just yet.

“Wake up or, Mahal help me, I am going to dump a bucket full of water on you!”

A deep sigh followed and then Thorin turned his head and squinted at his very irritated personal guard.

“What?” He choked out weakly.

“You´ve got a lot o’explaining to do! And get up! You look ridiculous!” Dwalin complained, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Can´t. Tired.” Thorin grumbled unhappily, hiding his face in the pillows again.

Dwalin could feel a vein pulsate somewhere on his forehead and had to take several deep breaths to keep himself in check. “Thorin, if you don´t get up, I swear—“

“No, you don´t understand.” The king interrupted him with a pained voice. “I _can´t_ get up. I am literally too tired, I can´t even feel my body anymore… everything aches… It´s like the bloody war again.” He trailed off, wiggling on the spot, trying to turn on his back but to no avail.

Dwalin stared, completely forgetting his initial irritation and anger.

And then he cocked his head backwards and started laughing.

Thorin groaned again, his ears turning red in embarrassment, but he could do nothing but to endure the jeering.

“Get out.” He growled.

“Make me!” Dwalin shot back, still sniggering. “Unbelievable!” He gasped theatrically. “Have you grown too old for romping in the sheets? Don´t tell me you couldn´t keep up with him!”

A desperate whine from the bed was enough to make him laugh again.

Dwalin´s day had just turned infinitely better.

* * *

 

Despite their parting words which left them both feeling more or less dull, Bilbo managed to catch a few more hours of sleep.

Bilbo, completely oblivious to Thorin´s suffering, woke up much later feeling refreshed and better than he could remember. It felt as if he was back in his tweens – young and full of energy.

He took his time to get out of bed, splashed some water on his face and carefully picked the clothes for today´s celebration. After all, he had to catch up on all the things he left out due to yesterday´s little argument. There was so much food he still hasn´t tried and so many dances he hasn´t danced. But despite all this, he didn´t regret the post-argument alteration of the evening. Not. At. All.

He might have felt a little sorry for his two guards, who greeted him with a little less enthusiasm than usual and avoided looking into his eye (Ilar even had an occasional blush burst from time to time), but that only served as an extra entertainment for the day. Bilbo´s thoughts wandered back to the previous night once or twice and he came to the conclusion that maybe they were a little bit too careless and a little bit too loud.

But what does it matter now, Bilbo thought, what is done, is done.

And he passed the gate, joining the merrymaking outside.

* * *

 

He made himself comfortable on the grass, not too far from the general area of the gathered people but not too close either, watching his darling dragon indulge more than three dozens of children. The happiness seeping from Smaug into his own body was almost overwhelming.

Bilbo closed his eyes momentarily, breathing in the brisk scent of approaching winter and cleared his mind.

The happy childish yells, the laughter and songs from the celebration, the delicious smell of roasted meat and fresh mead, chatter of people milling around. He perceived all of it and it made him feel as if he was back in the Shire, back in the place he once called home, even if the languages he heard were not his own and the wind carried a different scent.

It all made him happy. But what really put his soul at ease; and what always will, no matter where he was; was the genuine happiness of his dragon that warmed his body with pleasant tingles.

He was aware that Smaug knew already (or at least suspected) why his da hasn´t returned to the field that night and Bilbo knew he was not happy about it; but, much to his surprise, Smaug let it slide.

For now at least.

“I must say I am pleasantly surprised!”

The voice snapped Bilbo out of his thoughts, forcing his mind to shut out the sensations of the outside world.

“I really didn´t want to believe the rumours until I saw him with my own eyes.”

“You didn´t seem too shocked, Bard.” Bilbo replied, smiling to himself. He heard the rustling of the grass and from the corner of his eye he watched the bowman sit beside him.

“Trust me, I was surprised enough.” He joked, adjusting the robes around him.

“It suits you.” Bilbo said nonchalantly, “being a king, I mean.” He clarified when he received a questioning look.

“Trying to mislead me with compliments?” Bard smirked, tilting his head a little.

“I wouldn´t dream of it.” Bilbo laughed, offering the man a piece of his gathered food samples, which Bard gladly took.

They sat in silence for a while, watching Smaug lifting a couple of children from the ground with his tail.

“You´ve changed.” Bard muttered silently, stretching his legs. Bilbo avoided looking at him, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“People change.”

“You´ve changed a lot.”

Bilbo smiled again, still not meeting Bard´s eye.

“Are you afraid of him?” The hobbit asked, finally looking over.

“I would be lying if I said I´m not.” Bard admitted with a shrug. “There is something about him I just cannot put my finger on that keeps me surprisingly at ease but it also scares me.” Bilbo looked over at Smaug, still silent. “It is him, isn´t it,” Bard continued. “I heard about all the woes that had befallen the mountain recently. Rumours spread – the crown prince in deep sleep, the plague, the riots – and when I arrived, the air was clean. Not heavy with sadness and tension. I was relieved.”

Bilbo was silent for a while, his head flooded with a wave of thoughts and memories of how Smaug ached every time he felt the fear and doubt of people around him.

“Thranduil is still suspicious but that is to be expected.” The bowman said, adjusting his furry coat. They sat in silence after that, just glancing around when they both noticed the aforementioned king and his four guards marching to where Smaug was.

“I wonder what he wants.” Bilbo piped nonchalantly, his eyes not leaving the elf. Bard made a weird noise in the back of his throat but otherwise kept silent. “Why aren´t you walking with guards?”

“You being here is safe enough.” They both laughed at that sharing a short look and went back to watching the Elvenking talk to the dragon.

“Speaking of Thranduil, what is he doing?” Bilbo wondered, feeling a jab of Smaug´s irritation in his mind. Bard sensed his sudden tension and opted to watch the hobbit instead. “Oh my.” He furrowed his brow and sighed. The irritation slowly changed to anger, making Bilbo stand up in a second. A hand on his arm, however, stopped him from going over. He arched an eyebrow at the human king.

“Stay.” Bard said, “let them work it out.”

Bilbo had the feeling that the bowman knew what that all was about, so he stayed, silently wondering how long would it take for Smaug to start setting things on fire.

What surprised him was the sudden and very quick deflation of Smaug´s anger which was instantly overflowed by puzzlement. He saw the dragon sit down and tilt his head from side to side like a confused puppy would, his eyes not leaving the elf in front of him. Thranduil then put a hand on his chest and bowed slightly, his mouth forming a pleased smile.

“What in the—“ Bilbo stopped in mid-sentence, his body going frigid as the chills danced across his back. He shuddered, feeling Smaug do the same and they both turned towards west in unison.

“What´s the matter?” Bard asked, standing up.

And Bilbo found himself unable to put the feeling in words. He stared westwards with his mouth gaping, searching for the source of the presence that made his belly feel like it´s filled with butterflies.

“Gandalf,” he said. “Gandalf is coming.”

* * *

 

Thorin wasn’t happy to learn about the newest arrival. He forced himself out of the bed even though all his muscles screamed at him to stay still. Dwalin was still filling the room with his fits of laughter as he watched him get dressed and once done, they made their way to the field.

Gandalf was already helping himself to a pint of mead and some pipe weed, chatting with Bard and Thranduil like it was the most common thing in the world.

Thorin looked around, noticing the distinct lack of Bilbo and the very still dragon sitting on the other side of the field. If he didn´t know better, he would have thought he was a statue.

“Gandalf,” he greeted with a subtle tilt of his head, “what do I owe the—“ A loud whine from Smaug interrupted him before he could finish. People started looking around, startled, but as soon as the dragon quieted and lied down they returned to whatever they were doing.

A heavy sigh from Gandalf and the feeling in his gut told him that the wizard´s arrival had something to do with the hobbit´s disappearance and Smaug´s heart-wrenching outburst.

“Where is Bilbo?” The dwarf king asked in a low, almost threatening voice.

“Bilbo needs to be alone for a while now.” Was all Gandalf had to say.

The three kings shared a long look.

* * *

 

Thorin knew something was wrong.

Smaug was sulking on the edge of the field, covered in children, the three feathery reincarnations of Melkor disappeared Mahal knows where, Bilbo was still missing and Gandalf deliberately avoided Thorin´s every attempt of questioning him.

The dwarven king forced himself to humour the other two kings till the evening before they parted ways – each of them sitting at a different table with their kin.

Waiting for the food to be carried to the table occupied by his company, Thorin carefully examined every member and came to the conclusion that Dwalin must have kept his tongue behind his teeth in regard to the events that took place the previous night.

He heard a chair scrape and when he looked to his right he found Bilbo sitting down. Something in his gut jumped but he forced himself to relax. Nobody seemed to notice him.

Thorin noticed the faraway look in Bilbo´s eyes and a crease on his brow that only appeared when he was in deep thought. Watching him nudge his food around the plate, Thorin figured that it was probably not a good time to strike up conversation just yet.

He picked up his chalice and sipped a bit of wine.

Bilbo sighed. Putting his fork down and pushing the plate away he propped his head with his hand.

“Thorin,” he asked lightly, “what do you think about children?”

The chalice he was holding slipped from his grasp as he choked on the wine he was drinking. Several forks clattered to the floor and everyone at the table stopped, turning their surprised faces at Bilbo, who was still in deep thoughts and completely oblivious to the fact that Thorin was slowly choking to death.

Dwalin, being the first one to recover from the shock, sprang up and saved his king´s life with a few carefully aimed slaps on his back.

“A-about what?!” Thorin stuttered between his ragged breaths. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would be very lovely....   
> And thank you, all of you, who keep reading my story! 
> 
> Also, remember those little slips of secrets I kept hinting at few chapters ago? About Bilbo having new abilities? Yeah, demostration in this chapter. I should call it "Gandalf radar".  
> And Bard is a totally chill king, alright?


	30. I Have To Leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I´m still alive...  
> Everybody! I am very sorry for my inactivity! Please forgive me! >

The name Gandalf was never associated with “good news” .

Bilbo should have known that Gandalf´s arrival was not just an ordinary visit of Erebor. Maybe if he would have been prepared for the news the wizard brought he wouldn´t spent the last few hours crying over the letter he brought.

A bringer of bad news indeed.

It was so painful to read the words, so painful to learn of the things he missed since he left the Shire. Thankfully, he sent his two bodyguards off to enjoy themselves – at least they didn´t hear his barely stifled sobs.

The letter felt as if it was burning his hands and heart. How did it come to that? Why hasn´t he been there to save them? Why, why why…

But it was pointless to ask questions now, just as it was pointless to cry but despite that, Bilbo couldn´t stop his tears.

There was a knock on his door that he didn´t really hear, a warm hand on his shoulder he ignored and a worried look that belonged to Uzmek.

Bilbo gave in to her desperate attempts to calm him down and showed her the letter.

She read it in silence and somehow managed to keep a straight face. In the meantime Bilbo made a trip to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. When he returned, Uzmek was sitting on his bed, clutching the letter in one hand and wiping a stray tear from her eye with the other.

“What should I do?” Bilbo sighed in defeat, falling on the bed next to her.

“I don´t think it is my place to say, my lord,” she trailed off, “but wouldn´t it be good for the little one to come here?”

“Please don´t call me that!” Bilbo huffed, rubbing his eyes, dismissing Uzmek´s silent ´sorry´. “Maybe you´re right. Maybe it would be good for him to come live with me for a while with all what has happened to him. Maybe it would make him forget…”

Uzmek stayed silent as she stood up and placed the letter carefully on his desk.

“In any case, I need to leave.” Bilbo said decisively, sitting back up trying to adjust his clothes.

The dwarrowdam kneeled in front of him slapping his hands away and sending him an exasperated look. Bilbo let her do the job for him.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” She asked timidly, cocking her head to the side.

“Pardon?”

“Are you hurt? There is blood on your bed.”

Bilbo turned his head to inspect his bed.

Oh, yeah. He forgot about _that._ “That´s not mine.” He mumbled absentmindedly, not noticing Uzmek´s surprise. “Thorin´s shoulder wound opened up again.” Bilbo muttered, not really thinking about what he was saying.

Not to mention that he completely missed the dwarrowdam´s completely astonished look.

* * *

 

“A-about what?!” Thorin spluttered, interrupting Bilbo from his thoughtful state. “Is there something you´re not telling me Bilbo?”

The hobbit looked at him with bewilderment, blinking several times and furrowing his brow. “I´m sorry what?”

“That is what I am asking!”

“I´m sorry I—“ As Bilbo looked around him he found all the members of the Company staring at him in various levels of awe and shock. “Oh!” He gasped. “No, I mean. Oh bugger! I—look.” He sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes again. “I need to leave.”

And that was something Thorin was not happy to hear.

* * *

 

“Are you going to brood there until I leave? Because that is not going to change my mind.” Bilbo commented monotonously while throwing his clothes to the bag in a very un-hobbit-y fashion.

Thorin huffed indignantly, his vicious stare boring holes in the bag Bilbo was filling. “I know.” He grumbled. “You should still take some guards wi—“

“Thorin!” The hobbit cried, throwing his hands in the air and turning around. “No.” He said in a tone that left no place for further argument. A loud exasperated dragon-y yelp confirmed Bilbo´s decision and warned the dwarven king that the hobbit´s patience with him is reaching its limit.

A raised eyebrow and a pointed look at the balcony from the smaller male was the final thing that made Thorin shake his head in defeat and give up his insisting. He turned his head to glare outside instead. Smaug was sitting on the field outside, his body unmoving – the only exception being his tale that was still the main source of entertainment for many children. Meeting the golden orbs that were the dragon´s eyes made the king shiver and look away, only to meet the hobbit´s face up close.

Another roar echoed from afar as Bilbo reached for the velvet curtain and drew it further, hiding them from the dragon´s view.

Thorin caught his arm before he could pull it away, effectively keeping him in place. His hand moved lower, exposing the silver bracelet around Bilbo´s wrist. Thorin opened his mouth, ready to say what was on his mind but resolving to bite his tongue in the last second.   


“Be careful,” Thorin said at last, his eyes still trained on the delicate piece of jewellery. He leaned forward slightly, waiting to see if Bilbo draws away or not.

“Look who´s talking,” the hobbit said and Thorin felt his breath ghost on his face.

Bilbo was about to close the gap between when he caught the sound of beating wings. Thorin sighed as Bilbo rolled his eyes and they stepped away from each other just as Smaug pushed his nose inside and whined.

“Anyway, I´m not leaving before the celebrations are over.”

* * *

It turned out that the end of the mourning period came faster than Thorin would have liked.

Just before the dawn of the third day, after their little argument about the lack of guards going to the Shire, the dwarven king found himself pacing in Smaug´s room as the hobbit fastened the belts of the dragon´s saddle.

They chose the time of the department to keep the number of potential witnesses as low as possible. Only the Company and a handful of guards knew about Bilbo´s journey to the Shire. Most of the members of the Company decided to come to see the hobbit off but when they noticed the almost palpable tension between him and their king they resolved to stay by the door and wave from afar whilst murmuring various amounts of money they, apparently, owed to each other.

“I´ll be back in about ten to fifteen days.” Bilbo announced as he re-checked the bags on the sides.

Thorin awkwardly hovered around, touching the belts after the hobbit, not even trying to pretend to look like he was paying attention to anything but the smaller male.

Bilbo, noticing the dwarf´s fiddling, slapped his hand away from the baggage, sighing loudly.

The king imitated the sigh and glowered, knowing perfectly well that he is not going to change the hobbit´s mind even if he would set himself on fire.

“Try not to get yourself killed in the meantime,” Bilbo said nonchalantly, taking a fleeting look at the dwarves standing by the door and leaning slightly closer. “I´ll bring you something nice.”

Thorin smirked confidently but he still couldn´t keep himself from glancing at the floor and fighting down a blush. “I am looking forward to see what it is.” He whispered back, taking the long knitted scarf from the hobbit´s shoulder and properly tying it around his neck.

“Smaug…” Bilbo warned silently, rolling his eyes again.

Thorin didn´t need to turn around to see that the dragon had his giant mouth full of sharp teeth opened while looming above him.

The smaller male climbed onto the saddle and adjusted his coat, giving Thorin a small nod and managing to shout his good-byes at the other dwarves before Smaug turned around and made his way to the tunnel and then outside.

* * *

 

Their only stop was at Beorn´s house.

The skinchanger was one of the people Bilbo decided to tell – partially because he wanted to and partially because the huge man felt his discomfort after he read the letter. That´s also why Beorn decided to leave the mourning sooner than the others.

The bear-man prepared enough honey cakes to feed a small army, so when Bilbo was leaving, he had no choice but to add to the baggage – much to Smaug´s discomfort.  

After three days of flying they finally sighted the familiar fields of the place where Bilbo grew up. The winter has still not fully caught up in this part of the world – the trees had still enough yellowing leaves and the grass still held some of its greenness.

The most important thing was – it still looked the same.

The Shire was a land which seemed to be untouched by time: always looking the same, always making Bilbo feel a spike of nostalgia that made his heart warm up and his dragon purr under him.

Circling Hobbiton a few times, each time lower and lower; he watched a few hobbits stop in their tracks and stare at the sky. Waving a few times, Bilbo was glad to find many of the hobbits return the gesture.

They made another circle around the Green Dragon and then Smaug judged it was time to land.

Just as Bilbo himself touched the ground, he was immediately engulfed by an unexpected, yet very welcomed embrace, which he didn´t hesitate to return. 

“I´m glad you´re back!” Hamfast said with a raspy, aged voice.

“Me too, Ham. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are very welcome!


	31. And Then the Boy Said...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOFTA killed me... literally. Something inside me died when I saw Thorin and Bilbo´s scene.... I didn´t cry tho... I think because that something died....   
> Also it reignited the spark of inspiration and we´re slowly getting to the end of the story.....
> 
> *Thank you Szabi... you were very helpful... bitching at me and stuff...Love ya man....*

Bilbo stared at the little fauntling fidgeting shyly in front of him.

He was pale but his cheeks were rosy, his hair was black like coal and beautifully curled and his eyes… Oh, those big, round, shiny blue eyes that reminded him so much of Thorin. He offered him his hand and introduced himself but the boy didn´t look up, or acknowledged him in any other way.

“Hey little one,” Bilbo tried again and crouched down, so he could look the boy in the eyes. “What is your name?”

The boy said nothing.

* * *

He watched as the boy – Frodo he was called – as he sat in the shade of the party tree staring at other fauntlings playing on the meadow.   


“Look at the poor boy,” Ham commented silently as he puffed his pipe, “it is so sad to see him sit there all alone. He does that every day, you know, sitting there, staring at the others. He never joins in. Ever since… you know what happened.”

Bilbo stayed silent, pondering about what he could possibly do for him. The only proper reaction he got from the boy was a fearful half-sob when he tried to introduce him to Smaug who was so stunned by the reaction that he flew away into the woods and hasn´t come out ever since. Bilbo suspected that Frodo´s little outburst might have been more due to the emotional trauma and the reluctance in socializing, more than because he was genuinely scared but he didn´t feel like digging around that theory to prove his point. His cousins warned him that Frodo just closed himself in his own mind and refused to play, talk or do anything besides sit under the tree and watch the scenery and Bilbo was at loss of what to do to get the boy to speak up.

He excused himself from Ham´s company and headed down the road towards the tree where Frodo was, idly whistling a song he heard Thorin hum for himself when he thought nobody was listening.

Bilbo sad down and sighed theatrically, watching the boy from the corner of his eye.

“Say, do you like stories?” He tried, fiddling with his golden hair, smiling. “I know great stories about dwarves and elves.”

“How about huge men that can change into bears?”

Silence again.

Bilbo sighed. “Are you happy here?”

The boy said nothing.

* * *

The third day went in a painfully similar fashion. Bilbo would try coaxing some words out of Frodo and the boy would either dully stare ahead with his big blue eyes, or walk away from the hobbit.   


Bilbo counted the leave as an improvement - not a positive one but an improvement nonetheless -and started to ask around the village how the boy lived before the boating tragedy happened. He received many answers, of which many were, well, useless, but he picked up some helpful facts like that Frodo likes sweets but dislikes raisin cookies and lemon tarts, that he prefers to sit in silence and draw a lot more than run around the meadows and his two best friends are Merry and Pippin – the Took children that always get in trouble because of their antics or that he never sleeps good during storms.

“He doesn´t talk to us anymore!” Pippin said with an exaggerated frown on his cute face.

“Yeah!” Merry agreed, feverishly nodding his head. “But he still plays with us sometimes.”

“Mmhmm! An´ - an´ he cries more an´ mommy says we shouldn´t make fun of him for that! Do you really have a dragon?” Pippin asked bouncing up and down, making the other fauntling join him right away.

Bilbo laughed and nodded. “Yes I do but he—“

“Can we see? Can we see? Pleaaase!” The two children begged, rubbing their hands together so cutely that Bilbo just couldn´t say no.

“Alright you two but we have to find a space-y place.”

“What´s ´spaa-cy´, Pip?” Merry immediately asked, spinning his head towards the other child so fast that he almost fell down.

“It is – it is a lot of space, right?” The fauntling replied, spreading his little arms wide.

Bilbo laughed and lead them towards the meadow near the party tree, answering whatever question the two children threw at him as best as he could. Merry and Pippin were so vocal about their own plans with his dragon that he soon found himself covered in children and unable to hear his own thoughts over the happy cries and chatter. He noticed Frodo sitting under the tree again and couldn´t help but smile in anticipation – maybe he would change his opinion of the dragon once he sees him playing with his peers.

“Shh, shh!” The children whispered amongst themselves as Bilbo came to a halt, close his eyes and turned his face towards the sun.

He called for Smaug in his mind, chuckling silently when he felt the dragon´s thrill.

There was a roar from the woods that probably startled everyone in Hobbiton, if not the whole Shire and Bilbo was happy to note that it even stirred some curiosity in the lonely child sitting under the tree.

“Who dares to disturb me!” Smaug dramatically bellowed from the sky, making the children gasp and giggle. “I am here to eat all the naughty children!” Another roar sounded and a moment later the ground shook as Smaug flew down onto the meadow. He stretched his crimson wings and placed on the ground, creating a semi-arch around the hobbits.

“What a dramatic entrance.” Bilbo shook his head as he stepped closer to scratch the dragon´s jaw which earned him an affectionate purr.

The little hobbits were more than engrossed with his scaly son and Smaug was happy that he made new friends who were willing to play with him. It was a delight to listen to all the laughs and his dragon´s happy yelps.

Sometimes, Bilbo thought, he is really just like an overgrown cat.

He left the group to sit under the tree where Frodo still stubbornly sulked.

“Don´t you want to play with him too?”

Silence.

Bilbo leaned against the tree, watching the black-haired with a sad look.

“Does it still hurt?”

The boy said nothing.

* * *

“They are lying.”   


Bilbo almost choked on the tea he was drinking when he suddenly heard Frodo´s voice from behind.  “Pardon me?” He stared down at the boy who hardly reached his waist but was already capable of a frown that could easily put Thorin to shame.

“They are lying.” The child repeated, “you are not a hobbit. They are lying.”

The older hobbit stared and stared and he would probably keep staring if it wasn´t for the mental nudge from Smaug who slept outside Bag End. It still took Bilbo a shamefully long time to find his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“You don´t have a belly like the other hobbits do and you wear funny clothes and your eyes are weird. You don´t even behave like a hobbit!”

He stared at the child for a good while before he spoke again. “I am… sorry? But I can certainly assure you I am, in fact, a hobbit, thank you very much.” He was happy that the boy at least talked to him but to say such things… They stared at each other after that, neither of them sure how to continue. It was as if Frodo suddenly lost his resolve.

Bilbo decided for the safest way possible to start a new conversation, hoping that it would break the ice between them. He glanced at his almost empty cup. “Would you care for some tea?” He asked but when he looked up again, the boy was gone.

“Then maybe not.” He sighed, putting the cup down and looking down on the red coat he wore. Were his clothes really funny?

He turned around, looking at himself from every angle, checking his feet and his hands, combing them though his hair. He had to admit that the belly part was true but what else – oh, right. His eyes. The boy mentioned his eyes. Was anything wrong with them?

Bilbo drew the elven sword strapped to his side and held it in front of him, bulging his eyes to see better.

Blue. Blue-gray, the same as always. Was he making fun of him?

He felt Smaug laugh in his mind. He went out, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Anything funny?”

“You are.” The dragon answered, popping one eye open and blinking owlishly. “I didn´t know you were so concerned about what others think.”

He wasn’t. But for some reason, what Frodo said bothered him. Was he really that different from all the other hobbits?

“You are different.”

“Now hold on a second,” Bilbo shook his head, waggling a finger at the amused wyrm. “I am—“ The words froze in his throat. “I…am.”

“You fathered a dragon and you live in the cold stone halls of dwarves. You carry a sword on your side and wear an armoured shirt under your clothes.” Smaug´s voice then gained a more teasing tone. “You prefer the company of a stubborn dwarven king more than a company of any of the lasses here in this land.”

Bilbo cleared his throat and put his hands on his hips. “And you talk too much.”

Smaug laughed and blew a hot breath at the bristled hobbit.

“I am right, though.”

“You little—“

When Bilbo took a full step towards him, Smaug ducked his head and spread his wings, wiggling his tail like a playful pup. The second after that he was in the air, laughing as the hobbit shook his fist after him in evident outrage.

* * *

So much for his plans to return in ´ten to fifteen´ days. He could already hear Thorin´s grumbling about safety and carelessness and whatnot. Seven days passed since he left Erebor and five since he arrived in the Shire and he still hasn´t gotten anywhere with Drogo and Primula´s son. Who would have thought the boy would be so stubborn. Really now, worse than Thorin.   


He temporarily lived in Bag End again and found himself wondering the halls late at night, going through all the memories he left behind.

Bilbo was home once more but it felt so foreign and different to him that it made his nights sleepless on multiple days. He didn´t even dare to start fire for cooking. Hamfast always brought him food. He or one of his cousins came by and brought something or invited him over. He felt so out of place so suddenly.

Even Smaug was more fidgety than usual.

On the evening on the ninth day, when Smaug flew off to hunt and left Bilbo alone in Bag End, the hobbit sat in his chair, puffed his pipe while staring into the fireplace, his mind busy thinking about how he could possibly talk to the lonely little fauntling without making him run away in three minutes.

He was so engrossed in pondering that he almost didn´t hear the tentative knock on his door. When he opened it, he almost fell on his arse.

“What by the Green Lady are you doing here?!” He gasped.

“I ran away.” Frodo answered, averting his dark stare from the older hobbit.

Bilbo quickly ushered the child inside, straight to the fire. “Why would you do that, silly boy? You must be frozen!” He sat the boy down on the floor and wrapping him into a blanket.

Winters came late to the Shire this year but the air and wind during nights were enough to make you think twice before going for an evening stroll. And this boy. He came all the way from the Great Smials on his own in this cold…

“Silly child,” Bilbo whispered as he sat down behind Frodo and wrapped his hands around him and pressed his cheek on the top of his black hair. “Why would you do such thing?”

“Because I couldn´t stay there anymore.”

Bilbo sighed, rocking back and forth and hoping to ease the tension that rolled off the boy in waves. Only now he fully realized how little he knew about handling children. He was at loss at what to do. He raised Smaug, but Smaug didn´t exactly count as a regular child…

 “I don´t like the way they all look at me. They talk behind my back and pity me.” Frodo sobbed. “I don´t want them to look at me like that.”

Bilbo was glad that the boy sat in front of him – he could easily hide the smile that appeared on his face. So, this was the problem all the time…

“Do you want me to tell you a story?”

How easy it was, breaking that ice…

* * *

Frodo kept coming to him almost every day since then. And every time he would ask for a new story and would breathlessly listen to every word Bilbo let out of his mouth. Sometimes he would ask a question. What was he like? What happened next? What did you do? And Bilbo would always answer with patience and explain every little detail he remembered. He didn´t talk about the war. Nor did he tell the boy the truth about why he left the Shire and he was glad when Frodo didn´t ask any further.   


He stayed in Bag End with him, even after he admitted that something in his chest still hurt when he stayed there.

“But you make it different,” Frodo said one night, surprising Bilbo into speechlessness. “Your stories make me forget. If you are here, everything seems fine. Will you stay here with me?”

Bilbo smiled, caressing the fauntling´s head. “I am sorry, Frodo. I cannot stay here.”

“But you can do anything!” Well that was a surprising opinion. “You are so different from the other hobbits! You-you—“

“I am different. That is why I cannot stay. I don´t belong here anymore.” He didn´t belong anywhere really.

“Is that why you always look east when you sit outside?” Frodo´s sad voice made him feel guilty suddenly. “You want to return to your king. The one you told me about in your stories.”

Bilbo smiled. “He is not my king.”

“But you still want to go back.”

“I do.”

“Will you leave me here then?” There were tears in the corner of Frodo´s blue eyes.

The older hobbit took a deep breath and stood up from the bed. The child sat up, sobbing softly with a crestfallen look on his face.

“No.” Bilbo spoke. “Do you want to come with me?”

The boy said yes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, comments? Did you already see the movie? Did you like the chapter?


	32. A Glimpse of Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I´m so fucking tired.... just so dead tired.... I ran out of wine and everything that kept me sane during this long period of hellish finals (Szabi, too, I´m sure) and I just want to drop dead. 
> 
> Thank you tho, darling! I´m glad you chose me over that thesis you were supposed to write for school *3* :D 
> 
> So, here it is, everyone! A new chapter!! I hope you all enjoy!

Of course he knew they were coming even before any of the guards could come running to him with the message that the scouts sighted the dragon in the sky. Of course he knew.

And how did he know?

Because the three feathered monsters Bilbo called _owls_ invaded his private quarters and almost pecked his eyes out. The message was quite clear, though. He had the guards open the gate to Smaug´s hall and waited, not minding the looks the soldiers gave him.

He wasn´t surprised when the scout came, carrying the message he already knew about. What surprised him was the sudden rush of the members of his company who busted through the door and stood there, whispering amongst each other whilst throwing conspiring looks his way.

Highly suspicious…

He didn´t have the time to ask them what was that all about, though, because just as the opened his mouth to speak, he heard the dull sound of Smaug´s wings beating and a shout from outside the corridor that lead to the place.

“They´re coming!”

And at that moment, he felt his heart jump into his throat.

Bilbo was late. He was ten days late but he was here now so everything should be alright. Right?

Smaug´s roar echoed from the corridor and the mountain shook when he landed and a short while after that, the dragon´s head poked through the door, followed by his body and then the tail carrying the frosty air that wailed outside. Bilbo sat on his back, almost invisible in his red coat that seemed to be one with Smaug´s skin. The thing that caught his eyes was the fluffy blue bundle with little hairy feet that the hobbit firmly held against his chest.

“Thorin!” Bilbo cried as he turned in the saddle and hopped down, carefully placing the bundle on the floor and unwrapped it, revealing a head of black curls.

Thorin walked over to them, trying trying to look as regal as ever. He also made a point to ignore the sudden hushed whispers that broke out amongst the other present dwarves as soon as he came close to Bilbo and his little blanket-wrapped companion.

“Ah, what a flight back!” Bilbo said breathlessly, righting himself up and smiling at the dwarven king first, then back down at the child that hid behind his leg. “Come out, don´t be shy. You need to introduce yourself, remember?”

The child stepped to the side and squeezed Bilbo´s hand with his own tiny one. He peered at Thorin from beneath his black curls and gave a quick, unsure bow.

“Frodo.”

Bilbo chuckled and squeezed his hand back, moving to stand behind him. “Now, now. That was not a proper introduction. Remember what you promised?”

The little hobbit gave him a indignant look and huffed unhappily. “Frodo, at your service!” He yelled and bowed so deeply, he almost doubled over.

“Pleasure to meet you, Frodo. I am Thorin Oakenshiled.” He dipped his head and returned Bilbo´s amused stare. The child then suddenly yanked the hobbit´s arm several times with an urgent look in his eyes. Bilbo squatted next to him and let him whisper in his ear.

Thorin stared at them, unsure and nervous, but once he caught the mischievous spark in Bilbo´s eyes he felt slightly more at ease. The hobbit scooped the child into his arms and stood up, biting his lip to keep himself from laughing out loud.

Frodo stared at him with eyes wide and full of newfound wonder which made Thorin even more nervous for some mysterious reason. The mischievous smile Bilbo bore on his face was not helping anymore. He watched Frodo as he whispered in Bilbo´s ear again. The hobbit patiently listened but his eyes never left Thorin´s.

“Alright, little fauntling.” Bilbo said finally, setting the child back on the ground. “You will have to ask Thorin yourself.”

“Pardon?” But nobody paid any attention to the king at the moment.

Frodo frowned at Bilbo now and sulkily crossed his arms across his chest. “No fair.”

“We had a deal.” Bilbo waggled his finger at him and smiled.

“Fine!” Frodo shot back with a huff and marched off to where the rest of Thorin´s company was. They ceased their whispering and stared at the newest addition to the mountain in awe.

“What was that about?” Thorin asked, jerking his finger at the child.

The hobbit shook his head and laughed. “You will see in the evening, your majesty.”

“Very funny.” Thorin took a step closer, lowering his voice slightly. “You´re late. Have there been any complications?

Bilbo´s answer was a shake of his head. “Just legal matters. Nothing I couldn´t handle.” He peeked behind him where the others stood, briefly checking on his protégé who repeated the introduction and bowed to the other dwarves. “The hours spent in the court with you were very helpful.”

Thorin graced him with a smile. Yes, he remembered those hours very vividly. Bilbo was a small mercy amongst all those arguing fools that thought only about their own welfare. He always felt more at ease with him by his side.

* * *

“Look at them!” Dwalin growled in a hushed voice as he glared at the place where the hobbit and his king had their little lovely conversation. Pathetic. Loosing bets because of his own cousin´s incapacity. He thrust his hard-earned coins into Nori´s waiting hand. Bugger it all.

“Frodo! At your service!”

The group went silent and still, forgetting their money and bets as they stared at the lad. Nori even dropped his pouch when the little curly haired hobbit rose and stared back at them with his big blue eyes.

Before anyone could recover from their shocks, Dáin busted in, all happy as ever. “I heard the hobbit came back!” He exclaimed as he marched forwards, “and I heard he brought something with him!”

Dwalin mentally counted how long would it take the dwarf to see what they saw.  When Dáin´s self-confident smile froze on his face, he was sure he understood.

“And who is this little lad,” he said but all of them heard the little hint of insecurity in his voice.

“Frodo,” the little hobbit repeated, this time with a slight squint. “At your service… Who are you?” They boy sounded very suspicious. Not that anyone blamed him.

Dwalin glanced behind the boy and found the two smitten fools silently watching them.

“I am Dáin Ironfoot! The lord of—“

“I haven´t heard about you.” Frodo exclaimed with a frown that made several of the dwarves choke on air. “Have you all travelled with uncle?” He asked, his big blue eyes scanning the other dwarves.

“Aye, we ´ave!” Thank Bofur and his experience with children.

Dáin turned to Dwalin.

“Have I—did I miss something?” He asked in whisper, staring at the hobbit child as if he´d seen a ghost. “Like ten to fifteen years, maybe?”

“You noticed?”

“It is hard _not_ to notice, believe it or not.” The resemblance was _uncanny._

“I heard Hobbit´s are born from flower seeds.” Ori offered timidly.

“Don´t be absurd.” But Dori didn´t sound very sure of himself. But that started another hushed argument and everyone had his own theory to share.

“So what is our favourite cousin doing?” Dáin asked, but he still sounded a little bit shaken. Dwalin was not surprised.

“Besides ruining our betting pools? Not much.”

“What are betting pools?” Frodo wondered out loud, effectively catching everyone´s attention.

“Oh, laddie. That is something I now regret taking part in.” Dwalin replied while his eyes still lingered on his king and the burglar who were still engrossed in their private chit-chat, not even noticing the nasty glare that Smaug directed at them.

* * *

"Why is there a cloud on your face?" Frodo asked, unable to tear his eyes from Balin's beard. Bilbo managed to stifle his giggles, while the others openly laughed as the old dwarf patiently explained the concept of beards. The dinner was all about explaining patterns of dwarven eating - to which Frodo listened to with a horrified expression and almost burst into tears when the company told him they only eat three times a day - parties and holidays included. The little fauntling listened to them with eyes and mouth wide open, asking questions every time someone paused to take a breath.

Bilbo fondly watched the exchange, glad that the boy has taken liking to his foreign friends so quickly and without a problem. It has really been a good choice to take him here. He heaved a sigh and let a smile creep onto his face as he listened to Dwalin's exaggerated and very inaccurate description of elves. Bilbo could only shake his head at that. He dug back into his food with renewed appetite, only to pause a second later when he noticed the king's badly hidden frown.

"Something wrong?" The hobbit asked silently, putting his fork down again.

Thorin glanced at him shortly and shook his head, excusing himself from the table shortly afterwards. Bilbo stared after him, contemplating whether to go after him or not but when he felt Fíli's calloused hand on his arm he stopped.

"Just leave him be," he said, "he can sort things out on his own."

Bilbo nodded uncertainly and stared at the door for a while before going back to his food.

"Yeah! I can totally teach you how to use a sword!" He heard from his right.

"Really?" Frodo asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

Hold on, teach him what now?!

"Of course! But Fíli is better with swords than I am."

"Kíli!" Bilbo yelped, viciously stabbing the carrot on his plate, "we haven't even been here for a day and you're already corrupting him!"

"Come on Bilbo!" the young dwarf laughed cheekily.

"Absolutely not!"

The two crestfallen whines didn't make him change his mind. Not at all.

* * *

The two hobbits spent the rest of the day exploring - or re-exploring in Bilbo's case - the mountain. They visited the market, where Bilbo picked up a few bags of tea and Frodo a wooden statue of the king in full armour. The mines were the next stop where Frodo ambushed an unsuspecting miner and demanded every possible information about the glowing lanterns that hung all around. Bilbo still had no idea why was everyone staring at them as if they had grown another head.

After Frodo's curiosity was sated, they bid the miners goodbye and headed for the kitchens for a snack.

Bilbo sighed contently as he watched the lad run from one dwarrowdam to another to inspect their beards and beg them for some cookies and sweets which he received without a question. The older hobbit had half a mind to stop him, but then again, why? Frodo finally looked as a normal fauntling with glittering eyes and rich curls. A little bit of spoiling couldn't hurt.

The only complication occurred when they stumbled upon Stonehelm on their way to their room. Bilbo immediately hoisted up the surprised child on his arms and glanced behind to reassure himself that the Captain and Ilar were still shadowing them.

He tried to walk past him but the dwarf noticed them and oh, so accidentally, blocked their path.

"Good evening!" He greeted, his voice laced with false sweetness.

"Everning, Stonehelm," the dwarf smiled jerkily at the coldness in Bilbo's voice, "fancy seeing you here." The hobbit chirped but sounded more like 'what are you still doing here?'.

"Likewise," Stonehelm returned less sweetly than before, "and what do we have here?" He continued, shifting to get a better look at the younger hobbit. When the fauntling frowned at him, Bilbo noticed how his whole body went rigid.

"I don't like you," Frodo said, his frown deepening, "go away."

Stonehelm just mutely stared, and Bilbo had to admit that he felt slightly worried when he didn't exhale for a good minute.

"Right," he cleared his throat and stepped around the dwarf, "good evening." He repeated and walked away, leaving the dumbfounded dwarf frozen in the hall.

* * *

After Bilbo managed to bully his little protégé into taking a bath and cleaning his ears, he combed his hair and tucked him in bed, snuggling to him to shower him with kisses that made the child giggle.

"I like it here," Frodo said, rubbing his eyes, "I want to stay here."

Bilbo chucked and patted his head, "I'm glad to hear that."

"Can Kíli teach me how to use a sword?"

The overly innocent and timid voice made Bilbo roll his eyes. So manipulative. "I'll think about it." The sound of a silent victorious 'yes' reached his ears and he waggled his finger at the smaller hobbit. "I said I'll think about it, I didn't promise you anything."

Frodo grinned, "I love you, uncle!"

"You little bugger!" Bilbo ruffled his raven hair. "Time to sleep!" He exclaimed and stood up, taking his coat off.

"You're not going to stay?"

"I still have to take care of few things, darling. But don't worry, I'll be right back. You better be asleep by then!" He warned.

"Are you going to see Thorin?"

That made the older hobbit pause, "maybe? How did you know?"

"Dalin said." The fauntling shrugged.

"Dwalin," Bilbo corrected reflexively, putting on a clean tunic. Did he now? "What else did Dwalin say?"

"That I should make sure you don't ruin his bet-betting pools. Bilbo, what are betting pools?"

When exactly did Dwalin have the time to squeeze all this into the lad's head? Bilbo silently pondered how much the dwarf valued his life. It seemed it was time to have a _talk_ with Dori.

"That, my darling, is something Dwalin will be regretting very soon. You're not asleep yet?" Bilbo gasped dramatically, his hand on the doorknob, "no running around while I'm gone!" He warned as Frodo crossed his tiny arms on his chest and fell backwards on the pillow with a huff. "Good night!" Bilbo called before he left.

"Yeah, night," the fauntling grumbled, "why won't anyone tell me what betting pools are?"

* * *

"Hello mister I-refuse-to-eat-my-veggies!" Bilbo greeted after he softly closed the door on Thorin's chamber.

The dwarf spared him only a glance before going back to the documents scattered on his table. "No tea tonight?"

"You don't deserve it!" Bilbo answered sternly, and the tone surprised the dwarf so effectively that he immediately forgot everything that had anything to do with signing the papers for tomorrow's council meeting. "Now you're paying attention to me!" The hobbit chirped, ignoring Thorin's panicked face. "So, what's the problem?"

"I don't think I understand?"

"You're still moody. You were since lunch." Bilbo pointed out, "what's the matter?"

Thorin sighed and leaned backwards, dragging a hand down his face. "The silence is unnerving." Just as he said that, Smaug's roar echoed throughout the mountain as if he's heard him. Bilbo cocked an eyebrow.

"Nothing happened," before the hobbit could continue, the dwarven king clarified, "no riots, no assaults, no threats, nothing. Since you left, the mountain was quiet."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It's not a good thing, that's for sure."

"Are you being paranoid? Maybe they just realized they can't do anything." Bilbo paused, leaning on the desk, "or are you trying to tell me that you miss the threats?" He could feel that this would surely escalate into another argument.

Thorin rolled his eyes, giving the hobbit a clear non-verbal answer. "I'm just saying that it's not natural--"

A knock on the door interrupted them.

"Bilbo?" A small tired voice peeped from outside and the hobbit immediately bolted for the door.

"What happened?" He asked, when Ilar stepped inside, handing Frodo immediately to the older hobbit. "What happened, darling? Why aren't you asleep?"

"I can't sleep there! The voice keeps me awake!"

Bilbo threw a worried glance at Thorin, who was already tying his sword on his hip. "What voice, darling? Was anyone in the room?"

"There wasn't," Ilar jumped hastily in before he could taste his king's evident wrath, "we searched the room but there wasn't anyone."

Frodo rubbed his eyes again, yawning. "It keeps whispering to me but I can't understand it. It won't stop!"

"Can you hear it now?" Bilbo asked uncertainly.

"No, it's only in your room. I don't want to sleep there."

"Come on," the older hobbit cooed, "maybe it was just a dream," he suggested, putting a hand on Thorin's shoulder and shaking his head to stop him from going. "I´ll stay with you and you'll tell me if the voice returns, okay?"

"Okay," came a silent answer.

Bilbo carried the hobbitling back, gesturing to Ilar to keep watch outside as usually and after he put Frodo back to bed, he stood still, listening. The problem was, there was nothing to hear only silence. He glanced at the bed and then slowly dragged his eyes across the whole room. He reached with his mind to Smaug but the dragon couldn't feel anything out of place either.

"It's coming from there," Bilbo heard and spun around to see Frodo pointing at the chest in the corner.

The hobbit approached it with an easy smile on his face to calm his little nephew down but his head was reciting every curse word he heard in his life as the uneasy feeling of dread gnawed at his insides. When he opened the chest, he only found a few of his old clothes in. He glanced back at Frodo with a smile on his face.

"There's nothing here darling, see?" He leaned to the side as Frodo craned his neck.

"It's still talking, though."

Bilbo turned back to the chest to hide his frown and dug in it with renewed courage. It was not as if something would bite his hand off. He felt Frodo's eyes on his back and mumbled under his breath and proceeded to make a mess of the things stashed inside until his hand closed around a very specific object.

A sudden wave of anger and wariness flooded his mind and he could almost _feel_ Smaug's growl. 

"Ah!" Frodo exclaimed happily, "you made it stop!"

Bilbo could swear he just died inside a little bit. He swallowed hardly and stood up, forcing himself to smile even despite the fact that his heart was trying to beat his way out of his chest. "I did, didn't I! Now you can sleep, right?"

"Mm-hmm!" Frodo hummed and laid back down, pulling the quilt up to his nose.

The older hobbit stood in the middle of the room, not daring to move. Only when he heard Frodo's deep breaths, his face twisted into an angered grimace. He opened his hand and stared at the glittering magic ring he stole from the creature in the Goblin tunnels.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!! All of you fabulous people who keep commenting and, most importantly, keep reading my fic!!! It makes me incredibly happy and I´m so sorry for my shitty attitude and awkward replies! I love you all so much! I have definitely not given up on the fic! I WILL FINISH IT EVEN IF IT IS THE LAST THING I DO... just please give me time.... Thank you again... and yeah,.... comments are welcome:P


	33. The Power of Deceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parental!Dwalin and an unexpected twist...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look! I´m alive! Baaarely... But hey! I didn´t forget! Forgive me, please!!!

As far as Frodo knew, the one who had the crown was the king.

This ultimately lead him to believe that if he was to wear the crown _he_ would be the king and everyone would cover in his presence and listen to his orders and wishes, just like they did while Thorin had it on his head.

Yes, that was exactly how the crown-king thing worked!

Now , now was he going to get to the thing? He was not going to ask Bilbo again - the scary stern face he made when he first asked the hobbit to help him obtain the crown was enough to discourage any further requests of similar type.

The two dwarves always trailing after his newfound uncle - it was beyond him why, though - were out of question as well since they always had to tell on him whenever he did something they found worrisome. Maybe sneaking off would work, Frodo pondered, or maybe - oh! Of course! - he could ask Fíli and Kíli!

The only problem was sneaking off. Finding those two would be a problem, too, but one could only solve one issue at a time.

He peeked out of the room and found one of the guards - the younger one, with interesting eyes and funny beard - looking back at him. He slowly backed into the room and closed the door. He heard Bilbo bullying the dwarf to stand on the spot and not let anyone in _or_ out, so that much for going through the door. Heaving a sigh, Frodo dragged himself to the balcony. The brightness of the day was mocking him, just like the croaking of the ravens that the wind carried from the rookery. Another sigh fought its way out of him but just as he was about to turn around and start a sulking session on the bed, he noticed one of Bilbo´s owls on the railing, staring at him with what looked like a positively bored expression.

"Hello," he found himself saying as he carefully approached the big-eyed bird. He was happy that it didn´t startle when he reached for it and gently stroked its head. "I wish I could leave like you can," he said with a wistful sigh, "hey, w-wait! Don´t go!"

He watched the owl disappear behind a rock and couldn´t help but pout and stomp his foot. Bugger everyone! He plopped down onto the bed and rolled around for a while until his head started spinning. Definitely a bad idea, rolling around. He listened to the sounds of the mountain until the nausea stopped and resolved to jumping on the bed instead.

Of course he didn´t hear anyone approaching from outside, and was caught in mid-jump by Dwalin who just crossed his huge meaty arms on his chest and laughed.

"A little bird told me you wanted to go out," he rumbled and only then Frodo noticed the owl perched on the dwarf´s shoulder.

"Did it really tell you?" Frodo asked, mirroring the tilt of the owl´s head curiously, "owls can´t talk."

"Of course he told me!" when the fauntling´s mouth fell open in wonder, Dwalin continued, "they also steal misbehaving children!"

"No way!" the hobbit gasped as he scrambled off the bed.

The huge dwarf laughed again and lightly shooed the owl away when he received a vicious peck. "Come on, you must be bored here."

Frodo was never happier to see a dwarf in his life.

* * *

Bilbo was not having a mild heart attack. Not. At. All.

He was definitely not freaking out when he found his room empty and unguarded. He looked around and dragged a hand down his face. The sheets on his bed were rumpled, the balcony was opened and his food half-eaten. He searched in his mind for any kind of help from Smaug but the only reply he got was a lazy prod back. He fingered the ring that hung around his neck while he bit his lip in thought.

"Bugger it all!" he cursed and ran out, the old captain hot on his heels, barely keeping up. He stormed into Thorin´s chamber and looked around.

The king didn´t seem to be bothered by his overly dramatic entry in the slightest. He calmly flipped a page of the large tome he was inspecting and scribbled something on a separate piece of paper before he raised his eyes to look at the flushed hobbit.

"Where is Frodo?" Bilbo asked before Thorin managed to open his mouth to voice his question. Thorin could be so infuriating sometimes with his faked kingly calm.

"With Dwalin," he said as he sat back, "he´s babysitting now, _and_ it was his idea, can you believe it?"

" I can _not_ ," Bilbo emphasized. Dwalin? Babysitting Frodo? Oh, dear Green Lady if he took him to the armoury, or worse - to the training grounds... Many unpleasant scenarios filled the hobbit´s head in less than a second and none of them ended well. What if Dwalin took him to spar with the other dwarves? Frodo always wanted that - to have a weapon and to actually know how to use it. A shiver ran down his spine. Dwalin was not going to see the light of the next day--

"I can see you´re freaking out," Thorin´s voice brought him back from his worried thoughts, "but I can assure you that Frodo is fine."

"Fine? He's with Dwalin, of all people, how can you--"

The king silenced him with a raised hand and a tired sigh, "come then," he said, "let´s go find them."

Bilbo followed Thorin around the mountain with unhappy spluttering and comments about this and that, ignoring the amused looks of all the guards they passed. He wasn´t sure but it looked like Thorin deliberately dragged him through the halls, and it wasn´t helping his snappy temper. When he voiced his thoughts, the king just brushed him off easily.

"Calm down, Bilbo." Thorin pacified, "he´s in good hands."

"You know where they are, and you´re going to tell me right away, or Yavanna help me, I am going to do something I will not be proud of!"

Thorin paused, almost causing the hobbit to run into him, "what´s wrong?"

"What do you mean ' _what's wrong_ '?" Why was he looking at him as if he was doing something completely illogical? Was worrying about your child so unbelievable? "Don't you under--" a very familiar laugh made the words freeze on his tongue. Only now he noticed that they were standing in front of the side door leading to the throne room.

It was Frodo's laugh. He would recognize it anywhere. He pushed the door open and peered in, only to find his giggly nephew and Dwalin seated on the throne, the dwarf bouncing the fauntling on his knees while Frodo tried to keep Thorin's heavy crown from falling off his head.

When Bilbo wanted to go in, Thorin grabbed him gently by his arm to keep him in place.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked softly, and the hobbit found himself unable to respond, "you've been... weird as of late. More snappy - are you alright?"

"I-" was he? He hasn't realized, "I'm sorry, I - just, couldn't sleep properly, I guess," he lied, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. If you need to talk, you know where to find me."

Bilbo nodded mutely, looking over at Frodo again. What was wrong with him? When did he become so... snappy? Maybe he really should pop up by Dori to get him some tea to calm his nerves.

He stroked the magic ring absentmindedly.

* * *

Uzmek was like a gift from the Valar themselves.

Bilbo was reluctant to leave Frodo alone for the evening and he hadn't wanted to bother the others, so when he stepped into their luxurious abode, he was more than happy to find her playing hide and seek with his lively nephew.

"Don't you worry, my lord," she said, "I will keep the lad out of trouble!"

Bilbo couldn't thank her enough and Frodo himself was almost glowing with excitement, chattering about all the sweets Uzmek brought and all the games she taught him.

"You be good for Uzmek, alright?" The elder hobbit warned with a wiggle of his finger before he thanked the dwarf, grabbed a bag of tea leaves and made his way to Thorin's chamber, leaving Ilar to guard the door.

Thorin, as usual, didn't even raise his head when he entered, but Bilbo saw how his hand paused over the paper. It was even funnier when he pretended to get back to his work - grabbing a new, obviously empty 'document' and started scribbling over it while Bilbo busied himself with preparing the tea. It was not that Bilbo disliked the not-quite-sneaky glances Thorin threw at him when he thought the hobbit couldn't see him, but as flattering as that was, he could have been at least less obvious doing it, and maybe even dunk the pen into the inkwell once in a while if nothing else.

When Bilbo approached the table with the steaming tea, Thorin stubbornly held his eyes on the empty paper, pretending to read.

"Are you done?" Bilbo asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Too much work," the dwarf murmured quietly as he resumed his pointless scribbling.

That excuse might have worked on everyone else, but unfortunately for Thorin, not on Bilbo. After he put the tea down, he grabbed the papers and threw them into the air, scattering them all over the room. They stared at each other without saying a word, Bilbo with his hands on his hips and Thorin with a frown and pursed lips, unwilling to blink until the last paper settled on the ground.

"That was unnecessary." Thorin commented, heaving a resigned sigh as he swept his eyes over the mess.

Bilbo couldn't help but agree, but he didn't really care. "Drink your tea," he said, "and we can find something better to work on afterwards."

"Oh? Should I be afraid, Master Burglar?"

Bilbo bit his lip to keep himself from grinning. "Maybe."

"So you're leaving our dear Frodo alone just to spend the night signing documents and revising treaties?" Thorin inquired, finally reaching for his tea and taking a sip.

"I don't know, my king, the treaties are pretty important. We cannot just let them lie there until they wither away."

"Indeed," Thorin rumbled, hiding his smirk behind his cup. "Should I send Dwalin to keep the lad entertained?"

"No need," Bilbo huffed out a small laugh, "he already has someone to keep him busy."

"Does he? You know Ilar shouldn't--"

"Don't you worry your pretty head about Ilar, he's still suffering in the hall like the obedient and humble guardian he is. One of the servants is with him." Thorin's raised eyebrows and a barely concealed smirk was enough to encourage him to continue. "Don't look at me like that!" Bilbo grumbled half-heartedly, "he's in good hands. Uzmek is the only one so far who can keep up with his enthusiasm."

"Who?" Thorin asked in half-whisper, the smirk that he barely contained a second ago gone without a trace.

"Uzmek," Bilbo repeated, his own amusement dampening. He clicked his tongue and put the tea down as he felt a very familiar rope of irritation tighten inside his gut again. "She's been helping me for some time already!" He clarified, because Thorin was undoubtedly going to voice his protests really soon. "She brings me books and fresh clothes, and she's great with kids, and--"

Thorin's breathless voice silenced him instantly, "Bilbo," he said, face ashen and blue eyes wide, "Uzmek is not a servant."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo yeah... how many of you saw that coming? :P I´m gonna be plottwisting so hard from now on...
> 
> Also, whoever is still reading this - thank you very much for sticking around! I´m a bitch when it comes to staying in one fandom for too long (sorry sorry sorry sorry I get way too bored after a certain period of time, that´s why I´m switching)


	34. A Touch of Despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo I still live.... also I´m so very sorry for the late update!
> 
> *Thanks, Szabi, for your unending nagging.... bless you*

They stared at each other for what felt like a small eternity. A very painful small eternity. Bilbo laughed nervously, but it was a sad, desperate sound that bordered with hysteria.

"What do you mean - she's not a servant?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice even.

Thorin slowly put his cup down, eyes flickering to the door. "What did she say - what does she look like?" he corrected himself quickly, grinding his teeth. Bilbo shuffled in his seat, feeling more than just a little concerned.

"Brown hair, black eyes..." and just as he said that, Thorin flew out of his seat, making an immediate beeline for his sword. Bilbo followed him as he stormed out, almost tearing the door out of his hinges, and had he been less numb from the sudden shock and dread that made his fingers prickle, he might have cringed as Thorin's voice boomed throughout the corridors, making all the guards scramble to follow him. Halfway to his chamber, Bilbo managed to get close enough to catch the furry hem of the dwarf's sleeve, not caring if he received any weird glances from the regiment of soldiers following them.

A new wave of dread hit him when he heard the old Captain's mumble. _There are no guards here. Where is everybody?_ The whisper wormed itself into his ears even despite the thundering sound of the dwarven heavy boots against the cold stony floors.

He felt Thorin's calloused hand grip his own and squeeze, but the gesture did little to calm him down. He squeezed back because he felt the tremor in Thorin's hand and knew the anger and fear burning in his cold blue eyes.

The door was ajar.

The room empty.

The only thing that was out of place was the body that lay on the ground in a pool of black blood.

There was a beat of silence before Bilbo sunk to his knees and Thorin started screaming orders that set the whole mountain into motion. The only soldier who stayed behind was the old Captain whose head was bowed and mouth set into a grim line.

"I'm so sorry," Bilbo whispered as he carefully reached to touch Ilar's cold cheek, "I'm so sorry."

* * *

The mountain shook every time Smaug flew by and flooded the air with his furious roars. Bilbo had tried to calm him down but Smaug was not listening and the anger he felt though their mental bond was splitting his skull in half. It took all his willpower to keep the dragon from tearing the mountain apart to find his baby brother. 

Bilbo held his head in his palms as Thorin shouted orders left and right, making every soldier panic and stumble. When it finally became too much, he spoke, silently and patiently - which worked on Thorin like magic, silencing him almost instantly. Sometimes, when Bilbo was particularly lucky, it also managed to calm him down enough to talk some reason into him. The first experience had left the hobbit stunned in silence for an unreasonably long time.  

"If she's not a servant, who is she?" Thorin had been dodging the answer ever since they left his chambers. The fact that he had not yet made Bilbo half-deaf shouting curses about her didn't sit well with him. He usually took his sweet time to curse the root of the problem, then he moved on to scaring the soul out of his solders, go-betweens and, very rarely, ravens.

So, yes, seeing Thorin panicked and nervous was driving the hobbit up the wall.

He made a few more rounds around the room, tugging at his beard and huffing. He took a sharp breath a few times, looking as if he was finally ready to talk, and Bilbo thought he would finally start talking, but his expectations were only met with an uncomfortable silence.

"Who is she, that it makes you so damn afraid?" Bilbo moaned impatiently, his temper breaking through, "With what kind of serpent have I been drinking tea until now? Valar help me, Thorin, if you--"

"My fiancé," Thorin interrupted, and Bilbo could feel his jaw go slack. He stared at the king in absolute astonishment as he stuttered to correct himself lamely. "I mean, my former fiancé. I revoked the engagement before I went on the journey to Erebor. She wasn't exactly fond of me ever since."

"Excuse me?" Bilbo squeaked after he got his jaw to work again. "Wasn't exactly-? You mean to tell me that-!" he shut his mouth with a loud click. All the questions, all the innocent inquiries about his day, everything! She even asked him to keep their meetings secret because _'it's_ _more about propriety than anything else'._ Of course it was about bloody propriety! _His Majesty_  would not be happy if he found his enraged ex-wife-to-be chatting over tea with the source of all the outrageous affair rumours!

"A fiancé," Bilbo repeated, shaking his head, "I've been having tea parties with her and nobody thought it was suspicious? Marvellous!"

"Nobody knew she was still here," Dís commented as she stormed into the room with Dwalin and Nori close behind, "looks like she had enough riches to bribe half of our guards into closing their eyes whenever she was sauntering around." It was clear from the significant distaste in her voice and the agitated palming of the dagger on her belt that Dís and Uzmek did not have a positive relationship. "Why our spies didn't pick up on this is still a mystery to me, though." She shot a pointed look at Nori which Dwalin happily copied.

The spymaster rolled his eyes in his usual, undisturbed, way and politely inclined his head towards the princess. "My apologies, milady," he chirped snappily, "I was busy making sure nobody kills any royal members in their sleep. Mahal knows I can't deal with crazy women at the same time."

"Watch your mouth," Dwalin intervened, but Bilbo hushed them both before the argument could escalate. "If you want to dogfight, do it _after_ we find my nephew and Thorin's fiancé."

"Ex--"

"Yes, we know," Dís shut her brother up with a sharp hand wave, "the problem is that the mountain is full of Dáin's armies as well, and they aren't as passionate about finding a Frodoas the Erebor forces."

"Not to mention that they might be a lot more fond of Uzmek than our people." Nori added unhappily. "I heard that she was planning an engagement to Stonehelm," he clarified with a heavy sigh when he received three questioning stares.

"Lovely," Bilbo added dryly, cradling his aching head in his hands.

"How is that possible?" Thorin inquired, since Dís and Dwalin were shocked into muteness. "Does Dáin know?"

"Dáin knows, but he's not happy about that. Nothing is official yet, but little Thorin seems to be very adamant about his choice."

"It's very possible that they are in it together."

"That's jumping to conclusions!"

"They have a good reason though."

"Just because he's a mean little bastard doesn't mean he's behind every regicide attempt.

"Is he even smart enough…?"

The argument went on and on and Bilbo silently listened to all the accusations and absurd theories until it escalated into intelligible shouting match in Khuzdûl and Bilbo decided that was the right time to make an exit, which thankfully went unnoticed by the four dwarves.

The Captain was already waiting, also fully suited up and armed, silently following as they made their way through the mob of bustling soldiers. "How many soldiers are searching the mines?" Bilbo asked when they reached his quarters.

"Enough."

Bilbo felt momentarily bewildered by the short, gruff answer but when he turned around to look at the Captain, he found him staring at the bloody smear on his floor. He wanted to say sorry, but he knew that wouldn't do much. Instead, he reached for his sword and tied it to his belt. "I want to look around at the top. I remember Thorin saying that there are some chambers that got blocked in and stayed untouched since Smaug's attack. I feel like… " he was interrupted by the sound of the door closing and whipped his head around to see two unknown dwarves there and the Captain standing a lot closer than necessary. 

The way they were looking at him made him shudder and take an involuntary step back. He looked back at the Captain, noticing only now that the eyes that looked at him through the slit in the helmet did not belong to the kind old dwarf.

With an unpleasant crawling in his spine, Bilbo remembered one crucial thing.

"Hold on. Didn't you say you were going to take care of Ilar's body?"

The last thing he saw, was a glimpse of the dwarf's toothy grin.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuu we´re almost at the end...

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bilbo of Moria](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1401820) by [piq_snine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piq_snine/pseuds/piq_snine)




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